


The Meaning of "Partner"

by Sumeidi



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Action, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Humor, Lots of sexual tension, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Violence, Slow Build, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:06:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 77,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumeidi/pseuds/Sumeidi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bodt is a member of the Shiganshina Research and Development Agency's 'special jobs' unit know as the Corps. He's never had a partner that fit. Jean is the unwanted adopted son of a powerful business tycoon who has been handed to Erwin on a silver platter. The two of them must work together to form a bond for sake of the team, but will they work out their differences or will misunderstandings and mishaps tear them apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erwin makes a deal, Jean says goodbye, Marco does too.
> 
> (For the duration of the story, POV shifts and time shifts will be indicated as follows.)
> 
> POV shift: +++++++++++
> 
> Time shift: ---------------
> 
> Edit: I noticed the weirdness with the placement of notes for the first chapter. Hopefully I fixed it. Sorry if it was annoying anyone!

            “Yes, I’ll see him right away,” Erwin flipped his cell phone shut and closed the leather bound notebook he had been scribbling into. The door to his private office swung open as he set the notebook on the coffee table in front of him. He sat leisurely on an antique loveseat while an older gentleman in an immaculate and extremely expensive suit took a seat on its twin opposite him. Erwin had already placed a snifter of high quality brandy and two empty glasses in the center of the table in anticipation of the meeting. He met the other man’s eyes with a confident and welcoming smile while leaning forward to pour a finger’s width of liquor in each glass.

            “It is truly a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Kirschtein. I trust that business has been going well for you after our previous arrangement,” Erwin offered the glass to the older man and was relieved to see it accepted without hesitation. Whatever the reason for this urgent visit, it wasn’t due to an error on his part. The man sitting across from him was one of the most powerful men in Greater Maria and while the two of them were generally considered to be on friendly terms, Mr. Kirschtein – owner and head of the prestigious Rose Development Firm – was an old fashioned and difficult man to get along with. Mr. Kirschtein took a sizeable swig of his drink and nodded once before setting it on the table and locking eyes with Erwin.

            “I hope you will forgive my calling this sudden meeting, Smith,” he spoke with a complete lack of remorse over taking up someone else’s time. “I have a small problem that I was hoping you could help me with. I appreciate the work you’ve done for my company and a close colleague recommended that I come to you if I ever needed a personal favor,” at this he paused to gauge Erwin’s reaction. He was met with Erwin’s patented patient smile and unwavering attention, so he continued.

            “A … member of my extended family,” Erwin did not miss his pause or careful choice of words, “is in need of a career change. I was hoping that you would be able to provide him with a comfortable place among your upstanding employees.” At this, the man took up his glass and drank deeply as he waited for Erwin to respond.

            Erwin kept his features still as he mulled this over. He perceived a number of advantages and disadvantages to having a family member, however distantly related, of such a powerful business tycoon under his wing. Most of the advantages outweighed the disadvantages significantly but his brilliant strategist’s mind whispered of a catch. There was something Mr. Kirschtein wasn’t telling him and he was in the unfortunate position of being unable to ferret that out without offending the other man. In such a delicate situation, that catch could potentially bury him and his company. It took him only ten seconds to come to his decision.

            “Mr. Kirschtein, as I am sure you are aware, I am not typically in the business of picking up strays,” he allowed himself that one jibe and felt a small thrill run down his spine with the other man bristled. “However, I am more than willing to make an exception as a personal favor to such a valuable and honorable client as yourself,” Erwin leaned back in the seat and folded his hands in his lap over crossed legs. He adopted a hardness to his blue eyes that he knew would unnerve even the most powerful person. _I want you to know exactly what I’m expecting in return for this, old man._

           “If you would be so kind as to provide my second with the pertinent details about this relative of yours, I will be sure to make appropriate arrangements. Of course, being a member of your family, I will be sure to provide him with all necessary accommodations. And, naturally,” Erwin lowered his already deep voice and affectively pinned the other man in place with his stare, “I’m sure that we as a company can expect a certain level of consideration from you in our future business endeavors.”

           Erwin did not break eye contact or drop his smile as he uncrossed his legs and took his glass to sip quietly on his drink. The man across from him frowned very slightly at the corners of his mouth, the wrinkles there and on his brow deepening. The silence stretched and Erwin knew that Mr. Kirschtein was testing him, watching to see if he would flinch and show weakness. The blonde had played this game many times with far more dangerous people than this man. It would take more than a pissed off old fart to crack him.

           Finally, the other man downed the remaining liquor in his glass and set it on the table. As if on cue, Erwin rose from his seat a half second before Mr. Kirschtein and met the businessman’s hand without faltering.

           “You have my gratitude. I will see to it that any needs you and your company may have of me in the future are met,” he stated as he shook Erwin’s hand firmly.

           Mr. Kirschtein did not offer words of farewell. He simply turned and walked towards the door. Erwin was relieved to see him go, he had never enjoyed stuffy polite conversations with old men who could be offended if you sat the wrong way or addressed them even slightly less formal than usual. The pause just as Mr. Kirchstein placed his hand on the doorknob caught him off guard and the nearly inaudible words that followed made his eyes widen in sudden understanding.

           “He isn’t much, Erwin, but please look after him,” and then the man was gone.

           Erwin sighed as he dropped heavily into the loveseat and gulped the rest of his beverage. The resulting fire in his throat and sting in his eyes brought him out of his momentary stun. Pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut did nothing to alleviate the impending headache he felt coming on, but he still smiled softly to himself as he thought over the deal he had just made. He had just been handed a great gift and he now had one more high card in his hand to play in the event that his company, his family, was threatened. His newest family member would be well cared for, indeed.

+++++++++++

            Jean Kirschtein threw himself down into the limousine’s back seat with a force he hoped would make his frustration plain to everyone within a hundred meters. The grimace on his sharp features worsened as he tossed a furtive glance back at the massive house he had just vacated. It was the summer mansion he had grown used to living in for the past ten years ever since he had been adopted by old man Kirschtein. It hadn’t exactly been a home, but it was the closest thing he’d ever come to one.

            Jean’s supposedly unwed mother had died at birth and he had bounced around in foster homes his entire childhood until the age of nine. Then old man Kirschtein had shown up at his latest foster house and whisked him away as if he were some kind of prince. He’d thought at the time that things like that didn’t happen to parentless brats like him, and he’d been right. The Kirschtein family was quick to make him realize that he was nothing but a mere curiosity to the head of the house.

            At first, Jean had been given a place in the main mansion and introduced to his new brother, several years his senior and heir to the family name. It didn’t take long for young Jean to learn that he didn’t like the pompous little shit and that the feeling was mutual. The same held true with the old man’s snooty pinch-faced prune for a wife, and thanks to that Jean was treated essentially like a live-in servant. His mother barely made sure he was fed enough to live and when his father was around, he was treated with enough civility to avoid suspicion, but his father was almost never around. He’d spent plenty of days working beside the maids and plenty of nights nursing bruises and bloody scrapes given to him by the cruel legitimate son whenever the little asshat decided he was bored with his studies.

            For the next ten years, Jean had endured a life of supposed comfort stuffed with thinly veiled discrimination and animosity. And now the old man was shipping his worthless ass off to some company so he didn’t run the risk of interfering with the immediate family or the business. Jean had no delusions about ever taking up the torch and becoming the next head of the Firm, but he still held on to the childish hope that maybe one day the old man would treat him like the son he’d adopted instead of a human-shaped household pet. He still clung to the desire to prove himself worthy to his ultimate hero, and he hated himself for that weakness.

            “Good riddance,” he grumbled as the car door closed, cutting off the immediate view of his former place of residence, “If you wanted to get rid of me that bad, you could have just shipped me back to the kid factory, you old bastard.”

            Now that he was being allowed to strike out into the world, Jean vowed that he would make a name for himself and join the elites of society at the top. He would walk right into his father’s cushy office in Sina High Tower and show the man exactly the quality of person he could be. And when the asshole congratulated him he would laugh in his face and tell him to go screw himself and never come near him again. As the limousine drove away, Jean assured himself that he didn’t need any of this high class bullshit now that he was free. _Now it’s time for Jean Kirschtein to take this shitty town by storm._

+++++++++++

            Marco Bodt ran the cold tap on the sink and splashed his sweaty face with water. Shivering at the sudden shock, he pulled the hand towel from across his shoulders and mopped away the moisture and dirt he’d collected after the usual intense training with his partner. He met his own gaze in the mirror and beamed a freckled smile at himself as Connie waltzed into the large locker room and snorted.

            “I knew it! You totally practice that smile when no one’s looking,” Connie barked with a feigned scandalous tone, “I bet you’re secretly a dark and depressing jerk.”

            Marco laughed softly and straightened up, eyeing Connie in passing as the shorter man moved beyond him to rifle through his personal locker. Connie was the shortest male member of the Corps and was his current partner going on nearly two years now. He had pondered briefly getting more involved with the crew cut sporting troublemaker but Connie was nowhere near his type, and so their relationship had stayed purely professional.

            “What if you’re right and I’m secretly a twisted serial killer? Maybe you should reach out to me before I start leaving severed heads in boxes on your doorstep,” Marco moved to his own locker situated next to Connie’s and began stripping off his sweat soaked training clothes. Connie popped his head out from behind the open locker door with a conspicuously devious twinkle in his brown eyes.

            “That’s a great idea! I should talk to Sasha about that one. It’s getting close to Halloween, I bet we could find some great props,” Connie paused when he noticed Marco’s slightly nervous grin, “Hey, relax man. I was kidding. And anyways, no one would believe a guy like you is a serial killer even if they found you standing over a dead body with a bloody knife in your hand.”

            “I guess that gives me a good advantage, huh?” Marco followed a towel clad Connie towards the showers.

            “Seriously, if I had a personality like yours I could get away with murder all day long.”

            “Connie,” Marco sounded as exasperated as he usually did when he was worried that Connie was scheming something, “you know I can only bail you out with Heichou so many times. Even I can’t win a guy like that over with just a smile.”

            “Yeah, yeah,” Connie groaned and slumped, “I guess our Boy Next Door really isn’t as perfectly charming as I thought. At least I can still put up a fight before you cheat and start tossin’ my ass around on the mats.”

            “You only lose so much because I never underestimate you, but you underestimate me all the time.”

            “That and you’re, like, a million feet taller than me and much more buff than you look.”

            Marco blushed at the compliment but didn’t bother continuing the conversation as the two men split up and took a shower stall at opposite ends of the room. It was an unspoken agreement between them since neither was attracted to the other in the least. Marco gave the water a few minutes to warm up and stepped under the spray, ducking his head under the stream.

            As he watched the water dribble down in smaller rivulets around his face, he thought about what it might be like to have the kind of partnership most of the others had. Like the kind of partnership that everyone knew Reiner and Bertholdt shared, the kind of partnership that didn’t leave him feeling so alone among his colleagues. He was glad no one else was around to see the tinge of sadness in his eyes and the bitterness in the set of his mouth. Imagine what the others would think if their cute, friendly Boy Next Door was caught showing some negative emotion.

           Connie was a good partner but there was still, and probably always would be, a sense of distance between them. They worked well enough together to complete their missions without failure but there was no joy in working together. It felt more like Connie had been assigned to him so that Marco could keep an eye on him. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the trust Levi had in him as the unofficial peacekeeper for the Corps. It was just so easy to feel left out when all of the partnerships around him, with whom he spent most of his time, had that little something _more_ going on.

           Marco huffed amusedly and grabbed for the bar of soap he’d brought with him. After coming to the realization that he and Connie would go no further than platonic, he’d accepted it readily. There were aspects of himself that he kept closely hidden for fear of destroying his image. Aspects that would inevitably reveal themselves to anyone he shared any significant level of intimacy with. Marco doubted the Corps would ever gain a member with a personality twisted enough to withstand the truths he could bestow upon them. Better that he remain everyone’s perfectly innocent freckled angel.

           After rinsing, Marco shut the water off and stepped out. He noticed Connie was nowhere to be seen and felt a bit relieved. He patted himself dry, wrapped his towel around his waist, and headed back to his locker to get dressed. As he entered the locker room he noticed Connie standing near the exit engaged in a low conversation with the dark haired and steely eyed Heichou himself. It was rare to see Levi in the so-called pig pen, being the obsessive neat freak that he was.

           Marco dressed himself in the casual jeans and cream polo shirt he’d brought from his room in the shared apartment house that he and the other Corps members lived in together. Being ever the good neighborly gentlemen, he avoided eavesdropping and concentrated on donning his favorite pair of worn sneakers. As soon as he stood up he found Levi standing behind him with Connie a little further off to one side. They were both watching him expectantly, to his genuine confusion and Levi’s obvious annoyance.

           “Since I hate having to repeat myself, I’ll cut right to the chase,” Levi grated snappishly, “Erwin’s bringing in a new member. Since he doesn’t know anything about what this new brat is capable of, he’s assigning the kid to the Corps to test him out.”

           “Sir?” Marco blinked sheepishly, not really catching where his boss was going with this announcement. Levi pointedly ignored him and forged ahead.

           “We need someone to partner him up with, at least temporarily, while he goes through his probation and training period. Since we know nothing about him, we need someone who can handle just about anything.” Levi’s raised eyebrow seemed to say, _get it now or do I have to carve it into your face?_ Behind him, Connie shuffled nervously and refused to meet Marco’s questioning glances.

           “Sir, if I may. You’re saying you want to reassign one of us to the new guy? What about the other one?”

           “Not one of you. You. I’m reassigning you,” Levi seemed like he was trying to stab Marco with his eyes, “and before you ask, Connie has already agreed to this. He’s been looking for an excuse to get the hell out of the Corps for months. If you’re concerned about why, you’ll have to ask him yourself. You two are supposed to be partners after all. Expect to be very busy tomorrow morning, Bodt.”

           Levi’s sneer lashed Marco like a whip as he turned on his heel and stalked out. Marco stared after Levi numbly until he had cleared the room, then offered Connie a hesitant smile. Connie briefly caught his eye before looking away again and turning a slight shade of pink. Marco waited, knowing he was working himself up to his explanation. After a few awkward moments, the shorter man spoke up.

           “Listen, Marco. It isn’t like I didn’t enjoy being your partner. Really, it was nice but, well … we don’t really fit the way the other guys do and the Corps was never really my thing. I don’t like doing some of the things we gotta do, but we gotta do them as long as we’re here.”

           Connie had started rambling. Marco didn’t really understand why Connie would be so nervous about explaining this to the nicest guy in the company, but he maintained a gentle smile and waited patiently for his partner – former partner – to finish.

           “I don’t wanna just up and abandon you, man. I know we had some good times on the job. But I gotta do what my gut tells me and my gut says it’s time to go. So, I’m gonna quit the Corps. Heichou says I got a place with the testing guys over in R and D. Sasha’s been askin’ around and convinced Mother to let me have a spot. Seems like the perfect timing too, since we’re getting that new guy in. Maybe … it’ll be better for you, you know …”

           Connie trailed off into silence after that, finally looking Marco straight in the eye. Marco nodded his understanding but didn’t say anything else, so Connie nodded back. It was more to himself than in response to Marco but he gave Marco a crooked and slightly apologetic grin.

           “You know where to find me, okay? And look, don’t worry about what anyone else is gonna think if they find out our cereal box boy isn’t quite so perfect.”

           With that, Connie gave Marco a friendly slap on the shoulder and headed past him to clean out his locker. He didn’t catch the frozen look on Marco’s face when the implications of his last statement hit full on. There was a darkness that passed briefly over Marco’s gentle features before he managed to bury it behind his usual smile. As he fled the room without a glance back to Connie, he made a mental note that he would have to be more careful about keeping up appearances from this point on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was originally meant to be a side story to a Levi/Eren fic in this same universe and timeline that I have in the works. However, my love for Jean/Marco took over and this became my priority. The story has already been mapped out so I know about how long it'll be and where it's going. I just need to get it all typed up. (I have the first three chapters done so I'll put them all up at once.)
> 
> I will shoot for a chapter a week, maybe sooner depending on how focused I get. I also intend to bring it to completion even if no one likes it, though it would sure help motivate me if this story is well received! (I welcome comments so long as they are generally constructive or positive, but please respect the fact that I already have a path for the story to follow.)
> 
> I do have to warn you, dear readers, that this is not going to be a quick trip from A to Sex. I enjoy the slow buildup of a meaningful relationship. Of course, this will mean some angst, for which I apologize, but there will also be fluff, smut and other good things of an adult nature. It just might take a little while to get there. I promise it'll be worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First impressions abound, Jean is introduced to his partner, and then to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: For the record, I own nothing of the original and excellent work that is Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan, and take no credit for it whatsoever.

            Jean Kirschtein marched into the main company offices on his first day as though he owned the place. His ride had dropped him off with his one duffel bag and instructions to seek out a man named Levi. The building was a sleek thirteen story glass tower flanked by a squat two story building on either side. The one to the left looked like a gym of some type and the other was a cozy looking bed and breakfast style house that looked ridiculously out of place next to the steel and glass beast. Above the large entrance doors of the tower were the words “Shiganshina Research and Development Agency” in clean block lettering.

            _Not too bad_ , Jean thought as he strutted confidently through the doors, bag slung over one shoulder and his I’m-the-shit attitude in full swing. He gave the lobby a quick assessment as he approached the large front desk. The place was empty aside from the lone receptionist that was almost completely engulfed by the unnecessarily huge wooden structure, and what looked like two kids arguing near the elevators.

           The shorter one with his back turned had a crisp forest green suit on and his black hair was trimmed in a neat military undercut. Jean noticed that he stood straight as a pole with his arms crossed in a manner that hinted at the sizable stick lodged up his ass. The one facing him on the opposite side had messy brown hair, big teal eyes like nothing Jean had ever seen before, and the dorkiest face he’d ever encountered on any human being. He instantly decided he hated everything about that one. He faced the silver haired and bespectacled receptionist again when she addressed him directly.

           “May I help you?”

           “Sure,” _like it’s your pleasure to serve my needs_ , “I’m lookin’ for a guy named Levi. I’m Jean Kirschtein. Got an appointment with destiny, if you get my drift.”

           The receptionist stared blankly at him for long enough to make Jean wonder if she had even heard him at all. He was about to repeat himself when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. If there’s one useful thing he’d picked up living in that messed up household, it was an ingrained sense of imminent danger. He held very still as the receptionist turned slightly to Jean’s right.

           “This _gentleman_ is looking for you, sir. He claims to have an appointment. Shall I send him up?”

           The voice that spoke next to Jean was deep and smooth and promised all sorts of pain and suffering with its quiet menacing tone. It also came from somewhere near the height of his shoulder which didn’t reduce its ability to scare the shit out of him at all.

           “Thank you, Rico. That won’t be necessary. You must be Jean, the Kirschtein’s wayward son.”

           Jean turned to face the man he was quickly learning to fear with every fiber of his being. He wasn’t too surprised to find that it was the shorter of the two men who had been arguing a few moments ago. The other was curiously nowhere to be seen. Jean attempted to plaster a confident grin on his face but he was sure it came out as more of a grimace. Levi didn’t blink once as he stared Jean down, waiting for a response.

           “Eh, uh … right, t-that’s me,” Jean stammered out lamely, earning a flat and clearly unimpressed glower from the man in front of him.

           “Well, that was certainly a refreshing introduction. We should get going. I wouldn’t want you to miss your date with destiny. Follow me, dumbass.”

           Jean followed as Levi brushed past him and headed for the main entrance doors. Jean was momentarily confused as to why they were leaving the building until his guide turned and walked in the direction of the gym. Levi began talking along the way and Jean did his best not to miss anything lest he make his first impression on the man worse than it already was.

           “Most of the crew is training right now since there are no missions assigned today. Get used to the building you’re about to see, this is where you’re going to spend most of the next six months of your life. Everyone has a partner in the Survey Corps and you’re going to meet yours as soon as we get inside. He’ll explain everything to you so ask him if you have any questions. Don’t expect it to be a permanent assignment. If you turn out to be a worthless piece of shit, we’ll take you out of the Corps and put you on the illustrious janitorial team, so don’t screw up.”

           Levi had stopped at the double doors providing entrance to the gym and turned to glare at Jean.

           “You have any problems, come to me. Call me Heichou, it’s my call sign. We all have a call sign that we use on missions. If you survive the training and don’t turn out to be completely useless you’ll get one too. For now, we’ll just call you shitstain or something else equally as fitting.”

           Jean winced at the verbal abuse. He was starting to regret the situation he’d been forced into but he was too angry to back down and just take this kind of treatment. He’d spent too long taking this shit from people he wasn’t allowed to reciprocate to. He opened his mouth to throw a sufficiently scathing rebuttal at Levi but the intended recipient flung the door open fast enough to cut him off and nearly smash him in the face.

           Blinking rapidly, Jean regained his composure enough to look only slightly grumpy rather than homicidal and stepped through the door after his superior. The smell of sweat, body musk, and damp cotton whacked his senses like a boot to the head once he was inside. All around him stretched a large open room, most of which was either matted with padding or covered in scuffed laminated hardwood with several random pieces of tape stuck here and there. There was a decent number of various exercise equipment dispersed around the edges of the room and two people were using them. The opposite wall of the room was fully mirrored and there were two pairs of people, men and women, sparring with each other on the padded side of the room while two other individuals looked on.

           Levi cleared his throat loudly and all activity in the room stopped. Every set of eyes turned towards the two men by the door and Jean was suddenly struck with the need to puff out his chest. He put on his best and coolest grin while Levi made the introduction.

           “Alright you collective idiots, this is your newest toy. Name’s Jean Kirschtein. He’s starting his training today.”

           As Levi spoke, the men and women in the room approached and formed a rather orderly semi-circle around them. They had rearranged themselves in such a way that they stood close to each other in obvious pairs while maintaining an appropriate distance from anyone else beside them. All told, there were three obvious pairs and two individuals that stood alone. Jean realized that one of the solo individuals was the teal eyed boy he’d seen earlier arguing with Levi. He tried his best not to grace the kid with his charming good looks by acknowledging his existence.

           “Wipe that shitty grin off your face, worm.”

           Jean faltered as he felt Levi’s glare on him. Some of the people surrounding him snickered quietly, including the annoying messy haired brat. His mortification worsened when he noticed the look of utter sympathy on the freckled face of the other lone man.

           “I’ll give you a quick rundown and the others can introduce themselves later if they damn well feel like it, so pay attention. Those two partners are Mikasa Ackerman, Dancer, and Annie Leonhart, Valkyrie.”

           Levi pointed to a pair of women, one of which was a stunning beauty with glossy black hair that caught Jean’s eyes. The other was an incredibly short blonde woman with a bored expression and a taut readiness to her stance.

           “Those two are Reiner Braun, Tank, and Bertholdt Fubar, Gentle Giant.”

           He pointed next to a pair of tall men. The first had short blonde hair, stern features, and an intimidating physical stature. The second dark haired man was even taller than the first but had a timid air about him and was rather gangly, though still notably fit.

           “That’s Ymir the Beast and Christa Renz, Angel.”

           The third pair consisted of a fairly tall and athletic woman with tanned skin, dark hair clasped in a ponytail, and an angry expression on her face. The other blonde woman was even shorter than Annie with innocent features. She smiled at Jean in a way that made his heart flutter and he didn’t miss the arm that the taller one flung possessively around her tiny shoulders.

           “The other two losers are Eren Jaeger, Dog, and Marco Bodt, Boy Next Door.” At the mention of his name and call sign, the messy haired boy choked and stared at Levi in outrage. Jean summoned up a monumental amount of self-control to avoid bursting out in laughter. Levi shot the boy a bored look.

           “Oh, I meant Wolf. The one with the freckles is your partner for the next few months. Get used to doing whatever he tells you to do. He has my permission to beat the shit out of you if you disobey.”

           The freckled boy grinned at Jean in embarrassment at what Levi had said. Jean studied him for a moment as his superior turned to leave. The man was slightly taller than him and his grey sweatshirt was tight enough across the chest, indicating that he had a fair amount of build to his frame. It was also evident by his exposed arms that he had freckles in more places than just his face. His dark hair had a simple short cut with small bangs that framed his forehead and his big eyes were a rich brown. Overall, he wasn’t unpleasant to look at and the smile he had on from the moment Jean had entered the room lit his eyes in a way that warmed Jean’s insides uncomfortably.

           “Oh, one more thing,” Levi abruptly interrupted Jean’s train of thought as he held out a key. “You’re staying in Connie’s old room in the apartments. Bodt will show you where it is later. This is the only front door copy that you get so don’t lose it. Keep in mind that I do regular inspections and there are _dire_ consequences for those who don’t keep their living space in order.”

           Jean could only gulp nervously and nod as he took the offered key. A moment later Levi had disappeared and everyone in the room relaxed visibly. Most of the people in the room gave Jean a pat on the back or offered a sweaty handshake and a few words of welcome before going back to whatever they had been doing prior to the interruption. Jean was thankful that they hadn’t wanted to get together in some kind of grade school style getting-to-know-you powwow. He was certain that he’d have plenty of time to get to know them all when they were begging for tips on how to be as knowledgeable and professional and generally awesome as he was going to become.

           He glanced over to where the gorgeous dark haired girl had gone. She was off to one side of the room with that Eren brat talking silently and rapidly to him while he attempted to talk back, obviously being overridden by whatever she had to say. Jean had planned to introduce himself to her in more detail but it was obvious that she was deeply involved in the conversation and he decided in favor of watching a red-faced Eren get a thorough berating. A low cough nearby drew his attention away from the entertainment and he plastered an annoyed frown on his lips.

           “Yeah, what?”

           “Jean Kirschtein, right? I’m Marco Bodt. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

           The freckled man offered his hand and a warm smile and Jean took it with great reluctance. Marco had at least been considerate enough to wipe any sweat off first. Jean decided immediately that he didn’t like the guy much. But seeing as how they were supposed to be partners and this Boy Next Door didn’t strike him as the cruel-and-unusual-punishment type, he figured he could at least expect fair treatment from the man.

           “Yeah, I got your name earlier. So, what say we get started? I’m sure you’re ready to be impressed and awed by my skills.”

           Jean gave him one of his playful half grins and Marco seemed appropriately bewildered before he beamed brightly and pointed a thumb towards the nearby matted area.

           “Sure! How about we spar for a bit and you can show me what you’re made of?”

           “Hah, sounds like a challenge. You’re gonna regret it, Boy Next Door,” Jean taunted as he tossed his duffel bag off to the side and got into position across from the other man.

           “Call me Marco,” the freckled boy said with a smirk, “I’ve never really liked how awkward my call sign sounds when other people say it.”

           Jean fell into a defensive starting stance as Marco did the same across from him. Subtly, everyone in the room started watching the two of them, waiting to judge the overconfident newest recruit’s performance. Jean felt he had a good reason to be confident. He had taken to studying self-defense in his spare time over the past six years. Admittedly, he’d never had the chance to practice on a real person but three years ago he had finally lost his temper with his abusive older brother and put his fist through the solid wood backing of a chair. The boy had never bothered him again after that. He knew he had the strength to defend himself; all he needed was the experience to back up his self-training.

           Marco was waiting for him to make the first move. The man’s features still bore a small playful smile and the slight crinkling at the corners of his eyes proved how genuine it was. Jean couldn’t help grinning right back just before he launched himself at his opponent. He made an open and reckless swing with his right fist, the beginning of a favorite move he’d observed in training videos and practiced many times, and one he was sure would trick Marco – assuming that Marco believed him to be as inexperienced as everyone else clearly thought he was.

           Marco tensed up at the incoming fist, ready to deflect. Jean altered his motion the moment Marco began to move to counter his swing. He slid his feet into a different stance and shifted his weight to spin the other way and bring his raised arm around, aiming his elbow directly at what was supposed to be Marco’s exposed side. The moment he felt his elbow collide with the palm of Marco’s hand, he knew he was in trouble.

           Marco’s grip on Jean’s arm was like an iron vice and Jean felt a chill travel down his spin as he met his opponent’s eyes in the instant before his defeat. That playful smile had darkened and those big brown eyes were lit with a thirst that both drew Jean in like a moth to a flame and frightened the ever-living shit out of him. _Holy fuck, this guy is dangerous._

           Then Jean was being pulled forward, brought over in a tumble, and laid out heavily on his back. Marco still held his arm in an awkward twist but had somehow managed to avoid causing him any pain. The others in the room gave Marco a small round of applause as he released the captured appendage and straightened up, his innocent mask back on. Jean lay on his back unmoving, stunned by the turn of events.

_I just got my ass handed to me by the least intimidating man in this room._

           It wasn’t that he’d been winded by the blow; years of abuse had made him much tougher than he looked. It was the look that Marco had given him mid-way through their grapple that had knocked the wind from his lungs. He could still see those eyes after he was so easily conquered, and it wasn’t just a physical conquering. In that moment Marco had effectively and completely established himself as the dominant partner.

_Shit._

           A shadow crossed Jean’s vision and he focused in on Marco bending over him with a concerned look on his face.

           “Are you okay, Jean? I didn’t actually hurt you did I?”

           “Ah … hah, no way. I’m tougher than I look,” Jean couldn’t stop the embarrassed flush that tinted his cheeks as he pushed himself up. Marco had a hand held out but he brushed it off and got to his feet under his own power just to prove his point. _You haven’t beaten me yet, you smiling bastard._

           “Oh, I’m glad then. You did pretty well. You must have studied a lot to learn that move as well as you performed it.”

           “Had to occupy my time somehow. But I admit I didn’t really expect you to catch on the way you did. Kinda hoped you would underestimate me like all these other assholes,” he made sure that last bit was loud enough so that anyone listening in wouldn’t mistake what they heard.

           Marco watched Jean’s face for a good thirty seconds before responding. His voice was soft and outwardly friendly but there was an underlying note that Jean couldn’t place, one that made his stomach tremble nervously. He found it nearly impossible to meet the freckled man’s eyes.

           “I promise I won’t ever underestimate you, Jean.”

           “Y-yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

           Then the friendly, outgoing neighborly chap was back and Marco beamed at him while patting him on the shoulder. It was like the sun had burst through the clouds and for a moment Jean wondered if he hadn’t just imagined everything.

           “I think you’ll do just fine! How about we start working on your form? I’m sure you’ll move up to training dummies in no time at all.”

           “Oh, yeah. Let’s do that,” Jean offered, beginning to lose his momentary hesitation.

           His partner didn’t seem to be a bad guy overall. He was kind of dorky and smiled way too much, but the cheer was infectious and Jean soon found his patented overconfident smirk returning to his lips. Whatever strangeness he’d seen during that pathetic attempt at sparring earlier must have been his imagination. Besides, it seemed that most of the other people who had been secretly observing the whole affair were satisfied with the way Jean had performed and were back to doing their own thing.

           Jean took up his place across from Marco again and prepared to show off some of his seriously impressive moves. His partner would be kneeling in awe after his display, no doubt about it. For once in Jean’s shitty existence, things were actually starting to look up. Maybe he had finally found ‘home’ after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note on ages for this fic: Most of the characters are a few years older here than their canon counterparts. We're looking at an average age of about 20 among the younger ones. For the purposes of this story, Marco is 20 and Jean is 19. You can adjust everyone else's age accordingly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco’s first impressions, showers are fun part 1.

            Marco had to admit that Jean had surprised him. He hadn’t known what to expect when he first laid eyes on his partner-to-be as he followed Levi into the gym. The man had rather attractive sharp features that might have looked good among aristocracy but the underlying anger that was carved permanently into his expressions made it clear he had no place among high society. Marco knew a little about the implications that came with the wealthy Kirschtein name but the man now working diligently on his forms -- features scrunched in concentration and the tip of his tongue sticking out against his upper lip -- clearly hadn’t lived a life of luxury and ease.

            It was for this reason that Marco found himself growing swiftly attached to the other man. It was also due to the fact that Jean had honestly impressed him with the attempt to trick him during their sparring match. That move was one that Marco was very familiar with but it had still been a refreshing deviation from what he would normally have dealt with had it been any other typical recruit. To show his appreciation and respond in kind, he had afforded the man a small glimpse of his secret nature.

           Marco had thought that Jean would certainly be weirded out by the surprise but aside from the momentary shock, it seemed that he had taken it in stride. In fact, it hadn’t suppressed Jean’s brash and forward attitude at all and this pleased Marco to no end. He was drawn to his new partner in a way he had never been drawn to anyone else. Jean was a walking train wreck; he was loud, overconfident, bull-headed, unexpectedly charming, and unintentionally sexy. There was also a large amount of potential there, and it excited him to think that he would be the one responsible for nurturing that.

           Now, after a great number of hours going through multitudes of forms and stances, Marco determined that they had practiced enough for the day. Jean still needed to get himself settled into his room and they had both been so engrossed in practice that they had skipped lunch entirely. As if to emphasize Marco’s thoughts, Jean’s stomach growled loudly and caused him to turn bright red in mid-pose. Marco snorted with laughter while Jean straightened and looked ready to punch him in the gut.

           “Oi! Don’t make me beat your ass, jerk!” It was an empty threat and they both knew it but Marco stopped laughing anyways.

           “Sorry, Jean. I’m pretty hungry too. Let’s call it a day and go get you settled in. Then we can grab some dinner. I heard Mother is making meatloaf tonight.” Several heads whipped around in sudden interest at those words but Marco didn’t seem to notice.

           “Sounds good. How about my forms? Perfect, right? I can move on to practice dummies tomorrow.”

           “Hmm, I’ll have to think about,” Marco teased as they collected their belongings from where they’d tossed them. He threw a spare towel at Jean and pointed to a door near the back corner of the room. “Let’s grab a quick shower before we head over. Mother hates it when we come home covered in sweat. She’ll get on your case about your health if you give her the chance.”

           “Hah? You want me to shower in some nasty public stall?” Jean was only half-serious and Marco chuckled as they entered the locker room.

           Just yesterday, Marco had gone through the same routine with Connie but everything felt completely different now. He pointed Jean to Connie’s former locker and told him that it would be his own private locker from now on. As he explained proper public shower etiquette to the other man, he secretly enjoyed the growing discomfort in the other man’s stance. Marco shrugged sympathetically once it fully dawned on the hazel eyed man that he would seriously have to shower naked in front of other people. Jean’s expression became stony and he blushed bright red right up to the ears. Marco felt his pulse quicken. _That’s adorable._

           “It’s okay. I know it’s a bit much to handle on your first day. If you want, you can think of it like being in the boys shower room in high school.”

           At this, Jean’s expression darkened and Marco’s ever-present smile faltered slightly. Had he brought up a delicate topic? He wasn’t sure how to break through the sudden heavy silence. Tentatively, he reached for Jean’s shoulder but stopped himself before actually touching it.

           “Jean?”

           The other man gave a tiny jerk at the mention of his name and suddenly the look was gone, though Jean was now scowling.

           “I never had a chance to go to high school. The old man paid for home schooling and his bitch got to pick whatever twisted fuck of a tutor she liked best,” he growled while rifling through the contents of the locker that had been left for the next owner’s use.

           “I … I’m sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn’t have assumed,” Marco said softly as he drew his hand back.

           Jean shrugged the whole thing off without a word and began to undress himself on the other side of his locker door. Marco knew he shouldn’t stare but his eyes were drawn to the parts of Jean that weren’t hidden by the door as the other man woodenly removed everything but his boxers. Marco was drawn to the dip in his lower back just above his buttocks and the dimples of musculature there. When Jean twisted to remove a pant leg, he was rewarded with a view of the other man’s stomach and one pink nipple, hard from sudden exposure to the open air. Marco’s eyes travelled further up to study the nape of Jean’s neck and the other man froze, shivering almost imperceptibly.

           Marco tore his eyes away before Jean had a chance to catch him staring. He was sure Jean had already sensed the open scrutiny but was hoping he had assumed it was because Marco wanted him to elaborate on his earlier statements. While this was certainly also true, one look at Marco’s eyes at that moment would have given his true motive away completely, and he really wouldn’t have blamed Jean if he’d gotten offended. Jean was lean but decently toned and certainly not pale, though Marco observed that his own skin was a good couple of shades darker. He also had a multitude of curious small scars in random places that begged explanation.

           Marco began removing his own clothing while he recomposed himself. It wouldn’t do to scare his partner off this early on and it was already going to be an uphill battle just to control his desire to look. He didn’t want to imagine how things might go if his partner somehow got clued in on his preferences and decided to use that against him. Marco wrapped his towel around his waist and grabbed his soap, catching up to Jean who had already headed in the direction of the stalls. As he watched Jean’s towel ride the curve of his ass, he sighed inwardly and cursed his fate.

_Jean Kirschtein, you will be the end of me._

+++++++++++

            Marco had been watching him, Jean was sure of it. As soon as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end he’d known that the other man was staring and, barely a moment later, the sensation was gone. He wanted to believe that the other man had been wondering whether or not to press him on the sensitive topic of his home schooling but Jean was far more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for. Marco had been staring at _him_ and not for the purpose of conversation, though Jean couldn’t fathom why.

            He decided not to let it bother him. Perhaps Marco had been fascinated by Jean’s scars. They were gifts from his brother over the years as the abuse escalated but Jean didn’t consider any of them worth talking about. That part of his life was past him now and he could look ahead to new possibilities. And with a guy like Marco as his partner, it seemed like anything would be possible. Of course, he still didn’t really like the guy, but he didn’t dislike him either. Marco was alright, at least compared to everyone else he’d met that day.

            Jean hovered for a few minutes while he eyed the stalls, trying to come to a decision on which one he wanted to use. None of them was particularly dirty but the thought of other strange people having used them intimidated him just a little bit. Marco moved past him and took the stall farthest to the right as though it were his own private shower. Jean pussy-footed around for another minute before deciding to take the next one over, to Marco’s surprise. Jean gave him a combative look.

            “You got a problem?”

            “Ah, no! No problem at all. You just caught me by surprise,” Marco laughed a bit and ran his fingers nervously through his wet hair, giving himself a disheveled look that Jean thought fit him rather well.

            While he happened to be looking that direction – and definitely _not_ at anything he shouldn’t be looking at – he noticed the varying amount of freckles that covered most of Marco’s skin. They weren’t uniformly distributed by any means but they didn’t really follow a set pattern either. There also seemed to be a larger amount on his chest, shoulders, and upper arms than anywhere else Jean could readily see without being too obvious.

            The man was also much more cut and toned than he had first guessed. Jean figured it must be the result of the intense training he went through every day and he wondered if he would ever get to that level himself. Jean recognized that his own build was naturally a bit leaner than Marco’s but he hoped that with time he could match the other man’s physique.

            “You shouldn’t stare.”

            Jean was startled into a small stumble by Marco’s sudden statement and had to grab the waist-level wall separating each stall to steady himself. Marco reflexively lurched over and grabbed the underside of his upper arm. For a moment they stood in that position awkwardly, not meeting each other’s eyes, warm drops from Marco’s hair falling heavily onto Jean’s forearm. It was in that moment that Jean noticed something about Marco that he instantly wished he hadn’t noticed.

            The man smelled fantastic. It wasn’t the soap or the smell of his sweat, it was something else. Jean would come to understand much later that it was Marco’s natural scent, the unique musk that every person possesses. The scent that is noticed most clearly by those highly attracted to it. Jean inhaled slowly and the scent filled his nostrils and made his spine tingle. He caught Marco’s eye and for a moment that look was there again, the one he’d seen just before Marco slammed his ass to the floor earlier in the day. He shivered and Marco immediately released him, the look gone as quickly as it had been spotted and that gentle smile once again in place.

            “Sorry about that. I wasn’t trying to scare you. It’s just that staring in a public shower room can get you in trouble. Some people don’t like it,” _and some people like it a bit too much_.

            “My bad, I’ll make sure I keep my eyes to myself from now on.”

            “Probably a good idea. Although if you’re curious about something, you can always ask.”

            “Nah, I’m good.”

            “Okay, then.”

            Neither of them looked at each other once during the exchange and Marco abruptly cut the water off before Jean could add anything further. He wrapped his towel around his waist and headed for the locker room without bothering to dry himself off. Jean wondered if he’d upset the man but he didn’t know enough about him to read his moods yet. He doubted a guy as cheerful as Marco seemed to be would get upset over something as silly as a shower etiquette slip up. Before Marco got out of earshot, Jean turned around to catch him.

            “Hey, just so you know, you can ask me whatever you want, too. I mean, we’re partners after all. Right, Marco?”

            Marco had stopped in his tracks at Jean’s words and at the use of his name he turned enough so that Jean could see the smile on his face. This one was different from any other expression Marco had used. Jean had no idea the man possessed so many different ways of smiling but this one beat all the rest he’d seen so far. The genuine crinkle at the corners of his eyes and the partial parting of his lips melted Jean’s insides.

            “Right. We’re partners.”

           Marco let that hang in the air for a long minute before turning around and walking out of the room. Jean felt the words buzzing around in his head long after the other man had gone and he finished his shower quickly, eager to move forward and get his new life started. Things were going to be different now, but Jean still had no idea of just how different they would turn out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, the first three chapters. (They're not as long as I thought they'd be.) Things will pick up between these two soon. Oh, and for those of you who want me to hurry up with the good stuff, I'll have a little something to tide you over with in chapter 5.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean throws the first punch, Marco lays down the law, noms are had by all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had an unexpected day off, so here's another chapter. Going much faster than I thought so I expect to finish chapter 5 before the end of the weekend.
> 
> Also, I would like to thank and worship the lovely readers who have left kudos and comments. Thank you all so much!! It kills me with happiness in the best way to know that the story has been well received so far. :D

            Over the next few hours, Marco put forth an incredible effort to control his train of thought. He was so elated by Jean’s parting words in the shower room that he had carelessly skipped over to his locker as soon as he was out of sight and nearly slipped. It wouldn’t do well to be put out with a concussion this early in the game, so to speak, and so he vowed that he would behave himself for the sake of his budding partnership.

           He’d been dressed and ready to leave as soon as Jean returned sopping wet from the showers. A glance from Jean had Marco blushing guiltily and turning around so he wouldn’t make his changing companion horrifically uncomfortable. Once they were both dried, dressed, and ready to go they left the now vacant gym and crossed over to the house on the other side of the main tower.

           The place looked a bit run-down but the construction was surprisingly sturdy up close. Upon entry, it was much nicer than it looked and it was obvious that a great amount of effort went into keeping it in top shape. Marco watched as Jean ogled it with a mixture of awe and horror. He wondered if Jean had ever stayed anywhere that wasn’t a mansion or a five star resort suite.

           Marco led Jean through the hallways and up a flight of creaky stairs covered in old magenta carpeting. He stopped in front of a door with a rather silly looking plastic monkey stencil pinned to it, to which Jean raised his eyebrows and Marco shrugged. Jean turned the creaky knob and swung the door inward, half expecting the room to be an utter disaster area. Inside, it was perfectly clean and devoid of any furnishings or decorations aside from a simple twin bed, a small desk with a padded wooden chair, and a cheap antique-looking shaded lamp perched in a tiny nightstand.

           Jean stepped into the room and dropped his bag onto the bed as Marco followed him in. Marco had never seen the inside of Connie’s room and so he had no idea to what extent the clean-up crew had needed to scour the place. He suspected that some of the faint dark tinting of the wood flooring and the barely visible marks on the painted walls must be remnants of Connie’s residency. Jean didn’t seem to notice so Marco didn’t bother to point them out. It was probably better for both their peace of mind that Jean didn’t get suspicious about the not-so-savory habits of the previous tenant.

           “So, what do you think?” Marco asked in what he hoped was a completely innocent tone.

           “It’s fine. Not exactly a palace but I’ll take it.”

           They heard a scuffling sound from outside the open doorway and both men turned to find a small gathering crowding the hallway. Mikasa was standing to one side of the doorway with Eren directly in the middle and a short blonde boy named Armin who Jean hadn’t met previously on the other side. Behind them, Reiner and Bertholdt were peering into the room over Mikasa’s head while Connie and his best friend Sasha were chortling behind their hands over Armin’s. Marco caught the mischief in Eren’s eye and had a sudden surge of anxiety rush over him.

           “Um, hey guys,” Marco said with a feeble wave. Before he could say anything else, Eren recklessly opened his big mouth.

           “Glad you find it to your liking, _your highness_.”

           Connie and Sasha both spluttered and keeled over with laughter, earning a disappointed look from Armin. Slowly, Jean’s expression changed and his eyes lit up with a dangerous gleam. He walked over to the Eren so that he could use his height to his advantage to look down on the other boy. A twisted smirk pulled his lips at an odd angle.

           “What was that? Sorry, I don’t understand dog speak. Maybe you can try that again using intelligent shit like words, brat.”

           “Eren …” Mikasa tried warningly but Eren ignored her. He had a remarkably similar twist to his mouth and his gaze met Jean’s with just as much intensity.

           “I don’t speak Pompous Jackass. But even if I did, I’d be surprised if a talentless idiot like you could understand any of it.”

           “You little shit. I should put you in your place right here and now.”

           “Be my guest. I don’t even have to break a sweat trying to beat down some dainty Sina prince hot off th-“

           Eren’s words were halted when Jean’s fist collided with his jaw. Everyone in the immediate vicinity of the doorway except the two men now wrestling each other and throwing punches had scurried out of reach. Mikasa was trying to call Eren’s name but he was beyond reaching with words. Marco wondered why she hadn’t stepped in and broken up the fight yet. As soon as he caught her eye, he understood her message. _This is your responsibility, he’s your charge._

_Right. Time to take action._

           Marco watched them shove each other into the door frame while Connie and Sasha cheered loudly for no one in particular. Petra had come up from the kitchen upon hearing the noise and looked as though she was about to blow a gasket. A brief pause in the shoving match allowed Marco the opening he needed. He forced himself between the two combatants and placed a hand firmly against each of their chests. One good push was all it took to separate them completely and after a moment of flailing arms they both settled down to panting and angry glares.

           Mikasa moved to wrap an arm around Eren and pull him further down the hall. She was mumbling something quietly in his ear and whatever it was did the trick. Eren turned white as a sheet and nearly stumbled as Mikasa turned him around and led him away. Armin ducked his head apologetically to Marco as he followed after them. The rest of the crowd, no longer having anything to entertain themselves with, dispersed with a few disappointed sighs and shuffling feet. Marco made a mental note to talk to Connie and Sasha later about their blatant instigating.

           Once the area was clear, Marco dragged Jean back into the room and closed the door behind him. Jean had taken one good punch to the head and was developing a nasty bruise on his temple to show for it, but he was otherwise none the worse for wear. However, he was still a bit dazed and Marco had to prod him in order to get him to focus. Marco was inwardly upset but made sure none of it showed on his face when Jean finally looked at him.

           “That was quite a scuffle. I guess you and Eren really hit it off in the worst way.”

           At the mention of his most hated enemy’s name, Jean bristled again. Marco placed a hand flat against his chest as he had done previously to break them apart and Jean stilled instantly. Marco made another mental note of this effect for possible use some other time. He removed his hand and guided Jean over to sit on the bed while he scooted the chair over for himself. He was close enough to frame the other man’s knees with his own and Jean stiffened slightly when their knees brushed.

           “Can’t really help it. That guy just pisses me off. We’re natural enemies,” Jean offered by way of explanation, rubbing a spot on his arm that was probably bruised under the sleeve. He didn’t look the least bit guilty.

           “Jean, there’s something that I need to make very clear while we’re on the subject,” Marco said as he met and held Jean’s gaze pointedly. He was smiling his usual soft smile but his demeanor had changed to one that commanded attention. It was an attitude that he rarely used and thus it was made all the more potent.

           “I don’t really mind if you get into arguments with the other guys in the Corps, or even have a friendly spar here and there to settle your differences. But there are rules we all have to follow and that includes no fighting outside the gym and no drawing blood regardless of the location. Seeing as how this is only your first day, I won’t discipline you for this one instance, but you really should try your best not to let it happen again. Okay?”

           Jean had a rather comical look of surprise on his face and Marco had a difficult time not laughing. He obviously hadn’t expected a lecture from his partner on juvenile delinquency.

           “What the hell are you, my dad?”

           Marco chuckled at that and shook his head, “No, no. I’m just your partner but I’m also responsible for looking out for you and teaching you about how things work around here while you’re in training. If you get into trouble, I do too. Although,” Marco lowered his eyes to the pair of knees squeezed awkwardly between his own, “that isn’t really why I don’t want you to get into fights. I don’t want to see my partner hurting.”

           At that, Marco raised his eyes again and found Jean wearing a small frown. There was a tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows and Marco resisted the temptation to smooth it out with his fingers. He waited for the other man to mull things over.

           “I don’t get it,” Jean finally said. “Why are you acting like you’re my mom now? It’s not like I’m too young to look after myself. I get that it’s against the rules, but why the hell do you give a damn if I get a bruise from a sock to the jaw?”

           Marco didn’t have a response to that. The answer should have been obvious, _because that’s what partners do. That’s what friends do._ Didn’t Jean understand that the two of them were going to have to develop a close bond over the next few months? Did he not know that caring for each other like this was what friends normally did? A cold sensation worked its way up Marco’s back as something dreadful dawned on him.

           “Well, I care about that kind of thing because we’re a team, Jean. We’ll be working together and relying on each other to do our missions, but to make it a real partnership we have to go further than just teamwork.”

           He could see Jean beginning to catch on to the fact that he was missing something big here. Marco felt him shift uncomfortably as he continued, his face slowly losing its color.

           “Did,” Marco had to pause and swallow before he could continue, “did you not have friends before you came here?” Despite the gentleness of his tone, the words still visibly stung the other man. Jean flinched as he looked away shamefully. “Jean, I care about you because I’d like us to be more than just partners. I’d like us to be friends,” _and maybe something more._

           Marco’s heart was breaking as he watched Jean practically wither up in front of him out of sheer embarrassment. He already had his suspicions about the true nature of Jean’s past and upbringing but this had given him a new level of painful clarity about this Jean, the person sitting in front of him right now. He didn’t understand what friends were supposed to do for each other because he had never really had any. It made Marco want to cry. Instead, Marco opted for taking Jean’s hands in his own and offering the kindest smile he could muster up.

           “Let’s take this one day at a time, okay? I can start by saying that as your partner _and_ your friend, you can tell me absolutely anything at all and it will stay between us. The same goes for me, too.”

           The relief on Jean’s face was so obvious it was practically spelled out on his forehead. He easily regained his half grin and his composure, returning to a more normal posture. The man’s ability to shift moods on a dime was uncanny.

           “I’ll hold you to that. I don’t really get this whole partnership thing yet but you seem like a decent enough guy that I can trust you to clue me in on the big stuff. It would be a real pain in my ass if anyone found out about my social issues.”

           Jean pushed himself off the bed and forced Marco to slide backwards in the process. It had the added effect of freeing his hands. Marco gave an inaudible sigh at the loss of contact and stood as well in order to follow Jean to the door. He began to ponder in the back of his mind just how little Jean might know about other kinds of relationships. If he’d never had any real friends, maybe he’d never had a romantic interest either. The sudden thought that Jean must certainly be a virgin struck Marco like a bolt of lightning. Deep down inside, a very carefully hidden part of him squirmed in delight.

           “I’m starving! Let’s get some food,” Jean barked happily as he swung the door open and traipsed out into the hall. He had already forgotten about his major flub by the time the sultry scent of meatloaf wafted up the stairwell to greet both of them. Marco trailed him down the stairs so he could show Jean where the sacred kitchen was, all the while pondering a great number of sinful things he might one day have the chance of doing with his blissfully naïve partner.

+++++++++++

           Dinner had been amazing. Jean and Marco were sitting in a spacious dining room at one end of a great wooden table. Empty plates were piled in a messy stack nearby and the table was surrounded by other lounging residents. Everyone that had been standing outside of Jean’s door earlier was present except for Eren who was strangely absent. Jean had felt a pang of guilt when he’d caught Marco’s relieved sigh upon discovering that earlier.

           Without the instigator around, Jean had proven to be sufficiently decent company and he was proud of the way the others had apparently tolerated him right away. Maybe Marco’s open acceptance had a lot to do with that but Jean liked to think that they were simply beginning to realize that there’d been something missing from their lives up until this point: the great Jean Kirschtein.

           He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together behind his head. Across from him Connie was going on about how he and his partner in crime, Sasha, had thought of a great prank to plant a fake corpse in his room last night but that they didn’t have enough time to get it set up since they’d only had one night to do it. Sasha, the jittery girl with the brown pony tail next to him currently stuffing her face with her third helping, nodded enthusiastically. Having finally been introduced to Marco’s former partner, Jean could see why most people were a tiny bit wary around him. The little guy was a magnet for trouble. Jean figured they’d get along just fine.

           Further away, Reiner and Bertholdt where sitting close together and talking in low voices to each other in a manner that made Jean embarrassed to look at them for any length of time. Bertholdt’s head rested in his hand while he listened intently to whatever Reiner was saying. Jean could tell that he was hanging on every word and his other hand was resting casually on Reiner’s thigh. Jean assumed that since they were partners, that level of closeness and physical contact was normal.

           The same thing was happening directly across from the two tall men. Christa, who had originally been sitting in her own chair, had been bodily lifted into Ymir’s lap after she was done eating. Her face had turned bright red and was still rosy in hue as Ymir buried her nose shamelessly in the crook of the tiny blonde’s shoulder. Her lips were moving but whatever Ymir was saying was meant only for Christa to hear.

           At the end of the table sat a trio that included Mikasa and Annie seated opposite each other with Armin at the end. The three of them were mostly quiet aside from Armin’s occasional attempts to converse with Mikasa which were met with short noncommittal replies. Annie hadn’t spoken a single word since entering the room and seemed completely detached from everything during the meal. Contrary to her attitude, however, was the fact that her feet were intertwined with Mikasa’s under the table and one of them would sometimes brush the other’s calf with the toe of their shoe.

           Marco was seated next to him with his forearms crossed on the table and a distant haze in his eyes. He’d been distracted ever since their conversation in Jean’s room earlier. He hoped Marco hadn’t been too disappointed in him after that curve ball. From what he could see of the other man’s face, Marco was clearly not paying attention to the conversation even as Connie tried to occasionally engage him with comments.

           “- with an axe like this,” Connie was gesturing with his hands in a slicing motion, “and you can stuff it with something squishy so when you touch it, it feels really gross. Just like that time we used that rubber chicken, right Marco? Hey. Marco? You’re not listening at all, are you?”

           Marco started slightly and looked at Connie, laughing softly.

           “Oh, sorry. I guess I was a little distracted. What were you saying about a rubber chicken?” Marco’s guilty blush made everyone at the table pause. Connie raised his eyebrows in sudden interest.

           “Y’know, you’ve had a weird look in your eye for a while now, man. It’s really startin’ to creep me out.”

           “S’true,” Sasha mumbled around a huge bite of her dinner roll, “someone’s got an obsession.”

           “O-obsession?” Marco’s blush deepened, “That’s silly. You know I don’t get obsessed.” He gave Connie a pleading smile after glancing furtively at Jean.

           Jean wondered why he would be pleading for the other guy to stop. Most of the people in the room were watching them now, either directly or pretending not to.

           “Oh right, I forgot that you’re our poster boy,” Connie said with a dismissive wave and a smirk. “You’re not actually capable of evil thoughts. But hey, I’m in testing now so if you need to borrow any of my leather straps just say the word. Bring ‘em back clean though, I hate cleaning that kinda stuff off.” This earned him a giggle from Sasha.

           Marco spluttered helplessly, for once not having any kind of reply. Before he could find any words a youngish woman with short, light brown hair and wearing a blue apron entered the dining room from the adjoined kitchen. She was carrying a steaming casserole dish that smelled like cinnamon, apples, and heaven incarnate. Petra was known to everyone by her unofficial call sign, Mother, due to her habit of mothering everyone and making sure they were kept in line and in good health. This was what made her the Research and Development testing team’s leader. Her dedication to the safety and organization of the team fostered a deep level of trust among the small group that was her charge.

           It helped that her cooking was famous. She made dinner for the Corps three days a week as a service to ensure they were eating properly at least some of the time. Those meals were apparently so popular that Jean had almost missed his chance to eat even though he’d only been five minutes late to the table. He’d nearly lost a hand to Sasha while trying to serve himself before the food disappeared. As soon as the dessert hit the hot pads on the table, the feeding frenzy began anew. Although the dish looked enticing Jean decided he didn’t have the strength to fight that hard for the second time in one night so he sat back and watched the entire dish empty in less than three minutes.

           Marco had opted not to join the fray either it seemed, probably thanks to the yawn that split his jaw just then. Jean caught his eye and jerked his head towards the door to ask him if he wanted to call it a night. Marco must have agreed because he stood and grabbed the pile of dinner plates to carry them into the kitchen. Jean took half the plates off of his hands and they deposited the mess into the waiting sink already filled with hot soapy water. Sneaking out of the kitchen through a different door, the two of them returned to Jean’s room upstairs.

           This time Marco didn’t follow Jean into his room. Looking back over his shoulder, Jean saw him hesitate at the threshold. He turned to face the freckled man fully and a thought occurred to him as he watched Marco fidget.

           “Where’s your room?”

           “Huh?” Marco blinked, “Oh, I’m across the hallway from you,” he said, indicating a door directly behind him that was decorated with a cardboard cut-out of a white picket fence with the letters “BND” in red across the slats.

           “Cool. I guess I’ll catch you tomorrow, then,” Jean said, expecting them to part ways for the evening. Marco, it seemed, wasn’t quite ready.

           “Jean, there’s something I’ve been wondering since we talked earlier,” he began carefully. “It’s kind of important but you don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable.”

           “Whatever, I’ve got nothing to hide. You said we could tell each other anything, right?” Whatever Marco wanted to know, it couldn’t possibly be anything worse than what Jean had already revealed.

           “Right,” emboldened by Jean’s words, Marco pressed forward. “Are you … did you, um, have any,” there was a pause as he seemed to have difficulty finding the right words. “Is there anyone special to you?”

           “Special to me? Like a friend? You already know I never had any real friends. I hung out with some of the maids whenever I helped them out with chores but I wasn’t close to any of them.”

           “No. What I mean is, special like a girlfriend. I guess what I’m asking is how far you’ve, you know, gotten with someone.”

           Jean was thoroughly confused now. Why the hell was Marco asking him about this? Sure, Jean had learned all about the birds and bees through his schooling just like any other teenage boy. Although he’d lacked any real friends, spending time with maids that read graphic love novels in their spare time had certainly given him a chance to learn more about sex than he should have known at his age. Jean had even spied once on his older brother while he was fooling around with some rich cougar’s granddaughter, but Jean hadn’t really had any opportunities to fool around for himself. Besides, he hadn’t really felt the desire to get physically involved with someone else when he was more concerned with just getting by.

           “I know how to do it, if that’s what you wanna know,” he offered warily. “I’ve … read about it, and I watched videos,” Jean licked his lips. “If you’re gonna tell me we can’t bring girls back to our rooms, don’t worry about that. I’m not really interested in screwing around with random chicks. Though, if you tell me we’re not allowed to jack off either I might have a problem with that.” He began rubbing the short, darker brown hair at the base of his skull.

           “You’re allowed to do whatever you want in your own room as long as it doesn’t interfere with the job. That includes bringing someone back for certain … personal needs.”

           “Oh, then why –“ he began, but Marco raised a hand to silence him.

           “I’m sure you noticed a few strange things about some of the pairs at dinner. I’m asking about this because there’s a chance that you could walk in on something that might be pretty shocking if you aren’t prepared for it. The partnerships among the Corps are built on absolute trust and understanding. The official rule is that partners need to work together like a well-oiled machine,” Marco had adopted a gentle but serious tone that reminded Jean of the only kind tutor he’d had as a child.

           “Of course, there’s nothing in the official rules about romantic feelings but it isn’t too much of a stretch to understand that partners who are that close are pretty likely to take things just a little bit further. Erwin and Levi won’t ever bring it up and I think it’s secretly encouraged as long as it doesn’t interfere with the partnership, but it isn’t something that anyone here will come right out and admit to. I just don’t want you to get too upset if you see something unconventional,” Marco finished with a light hearted shrug.

           Jean hadn’t understood what he was getting at until he thought back to what he’d seen at dinner. Bertholdt’s hand on Reiner’s thigh, Ymir nuzzling Christa’s shoulder, Mikasa’s and Annie’s tangled legs; it all clicked into place. They weren’t just partners in the professional sense, they were partners in an intimate sense too. Jean was much less shocked than he thought he should be. He didn’t really care that each pair was of the same sex. He’d listened in on just as many conversations among the maids about gay romance novels as straight ones, so gay romance wasn’t new to him. If he thought about it, Jean supposed it made sense.

           “Well, I guess I’ll just turn a blind eye,” he finally said with a casual shrug.

           Marco chewed on his lower lip and watched him for a long minute before his face cracked into a bright grin and he clapped Jean on the shoulder.

           “Great! I thought you’d understand. I know the others will be relieved to know that you won’t have any problems. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Jean. We had a good first day.” Marco left him then and retreated to his room for the night with a farewell wave.

           As Jean closed his door and sat heavily on his bed, he reflected back on the insane first day he’d had here at the company. He had abandoned his shitty past and taken up a new life here with the help of his new partner, and for the first time in his life he had a real friend. Someone he could trust and who could put their trust in him. Jean was excited to think about what the next six months might have in store for the two of them. He was certain that with a guy like Marco backing him up, the two of them could do anything. It hadn’t yet occurred to his innocent mind that their bond could become just as intimate as the others. Laying back on his bed Jean kicked off his shoes and flicked the lamp off, finally bringing an end to one of the longest and best – so far – days of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another quick reminder: the next chapter will have something fun to give that explicit rating a little validation. Also, while there won't be quite as much action as the companion story will have, we will definitely get a chance to see these two out doing what the Corps does best. This story just happens to focus more on the characters themselves than the overall plot line of the AU.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco compromises, showers are fun part 2, Jean shows off his mad skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's number 5! Enjoy. :)
> 
> Thanks once again for all the kudos and for the lovely comment!

            Marco lay on his bed staring up at his ceiling with one hand behind his head and the other resting flat against his bare stomach. Jean had surprised him yet again with the amount of personal information he was willing to put forth. Marco had to remind himself that the guy was extremely naïve and probably had no clue that he was a glowing unintentional target for his partner’s desires. If Jean continued to accept anything Marco told him for the sake of the partnership without question, the two of them would quickly cross over into dangerous territory. One wrong push from Marco and he could end up destroying the other man’s innocence and completely ruining the trust between them.

            He knew he would have to make a difficult decision tonight about how to handle things from here on out. It would end up putting him through a new kind of hellish torture for the next six months but if all went well he would come out of it with something well worth the suffering. As a compromise for the hefty trial ahead of him, he allowed himself a chance to indulge in his darker side just for tonight. Closing his eyes, he brought up a mental image of Jean spread out naked before him on his sheets as his fingers stroked his lower stomach contentedly.

            In his mind, Jean’s wrists were bound together behind him with a strip of red silk and he was blindfolded with its twin. Marco pictured threading his fingers through Jean’s hair and imagined how soft it must feel as he took a firm grip. Imaginary Jean gasped and opened his mouth wantonly and Marco’s cock twitched. He was growing hard way too quickly but he could no longer bring himself stop the fantasy from playing out. He grabbed a small bottle from his bedside table without looking and squeezed a small amount of lubricant into his palm.

            Marco continued his mental pornography as he freed his erection from his boxers and slid his hand along the shaft and around the head, thumbing the drop of pre-cum that had beaded there. Imaginary Jean was just as hard now as Marco mentally explored his partner’s skin. One of Marco’s hands was stroking Jean’s cock at a torturously slow pace while the other slid up along the man’s side to pinch one pink nipple between his thumb and finger. Marco bit his lip hard as Imaginary Jean arched his back and mewled in frustration.

            _“A-ah! Marco, I can’t … p-please, let me –“_

           Marco silenced him by fisting his free hand in Jean’s hair and pulling his head back with a jerk. He pressed his open lips to Jean’s collar bone and dragged his tongue along his exposed neck, sinking his teeth into the soft spot just below Jean’s ear hard enough to barely avoid breaking the skin. Jean keened beautifully for him in his head and Marco’s body shivered as his pace quickened. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

 _“You’ll come when I tell you to, Jean,”_ he crooned smoothly into the other man’s ear and was rewarded by Imaginary Jean spreading his thighs and bucking his slender hips into Marco’s hand in defiance. He chuckled lowly at the display and released Jean’s cock, causing the other man to bite his lip and moan in desperation.

 _“Such a slutty little thing, aren’t you, Jean?”_ Marco said as slid two fingers down to stroke the stretch of skin between his partner’s testicles and anus. _“If you beg me enough, I’ll be happy to give you what you really want,_ ” he said as he pressed his fingers there while palming Jean’s balls gently. In his mind, the other man writhed beneath him.

 _“Nngh,”_ Imaginary Jean tossed his head to the side and panted softly, chest heaving as he struggled to remain in control. Marco mercifully let him hold on to his remaining shreds of sanity for a few moments longer. He then lowered his slickened fingers to Jean’s tightly clenched opening and slid his middle digit inside. Imaginary Jean threw his head back and released a hoarse moan and Marco almost let his own grunt escape as his body shuddered and he sprayed his freckled stomach with his own warm fluids.

           In that blinding flash of pleasure as he reached his climax he’d lost his train of thought and his fantasy was gone. He rested limply for a few moments to catch his breath and tried to find it again but the effort proved futile. His mental Jean had escaped him. Perhaps he would allow himself to have a secret rendezvous with his new toy again one evening in the future. For now, he settled for grabbing the box of tissues and small packet of wet wipes sitting next to the bottle on his bedside table and cleaned himself up.

           That night, with mostly innocent thoughts of his partner bouncing around in his head, Marco slept much better than he had in years.

\---------------

            The second day of Jean’s training found Marco up and active before dawn. This wasn’t unusual for him but he had to admit that he had been flagging on his early mornings over the last year and a half. Not having any real motivation to get out of bed every day made it hard to stay on top of it, but all of that was different now. It also helped that he’d released a good bit of pent up tension the night before. He vaulted out of bed and grabbed the yellow towel and small bucket of toiletries hanging on a hook inside his closet door. He then threw on a pair of pajama bottoms and stepped into the hall.

           Everything was still dark and silent in the house and Marco hovered in front of Jean’s closed door. He wondered if he should wake his partner up under the pretense of the trainees having to get up earlier than everyone else. In the end he decided to let him sleep a little longer out of the goodness of his deceptively angelic heart. Humming tunelessly under his breath, he headed for the large shared bathroom at the opposite end of the hall from the stairs. When he got closer he noticed that there was light streaming out from the crack under the closed door.

            Marco tried the handle and found it unlocked so he went ahead inside. There he was met with an interesting sight. A shirtless Reiner was leaning over one of the two bathroom sinks and attempting to shave his face. An equally shirtless Bertholdt was pressed flush against his back, long slender arms somehow managing to cage the broader man in front of him as he pressed his lips to the side of Reiner’s neck. Neither of them gave Marco any notice other than a brief acknowledging glance, though Reiner offered a passing wiggle of his fingers as Marco stepped around them.

            He was unfazed by the display as he had witness similar occurrences involving each of the current pairs on many late nights or early mornings. None of them except one instance when Ymir couldn’t control herself – her lack of self-control was what had earned her that infamous call sign – had ever gone beyond cuddling and light kissing, so no one ever seemed to mind when it happened. Marco was relieved to find that he didn’t feel his usual pang of jealousy this time. _I’ll have one of those too some day soon._

            The bathroom had recently been remodeled in order to add a second shower stall opposite the original and separate them from the sinks and three toilet stalls by a sliding frosted glass door. Marco moved into the shower area and closed to door to give the other two their privacy. He continued his humming as he ran the water and stepped bravely into the steam. He swiftly lost himself in his memory of the previous day’s events.

            About fifteen minutes into the shower, he heard a shuffle and a stammered apology from the other room in a voice he recognized. Reiner laughed and made a dismissive comment that he couldn’t make out and then someone was opening the door to the showers. Marco followed the sound of slapping feet and the rattle as Jean shoved the other shower curtain aside and started the water in the opposite stall. Jean had no way of knowing who was in the other stall unless he asked and he apparently didn’t feel up to finding out. Marco decided to hold his tongue for the time being and after a few minutes Jean cursed under his breath and spoke up.

            “Hey, whoever’s in there, can I borrow some shampoo? I forgot to bring mine with me. I’ll take whatever you got, even if it’s girly,” the curtain rattled again as he held out a hand. Marco said nothing so as not to give up his identity and set his bottle of shampoo in Jean’s waiting grasp. Jean accepted it and mumbled in surprise when he finally got a look at the bottle.

            “Oi, this is good stuff. Whoever you are, you have good taste. Thanks,” and the curtain rattled once more. Marco took the bottle back and finished up as quickly as he could. He was grinning like an idiot as he dried himself off and fled the showers before Jean could spot him. Jean’s small compliment had sent Marco’s heart soaring even if he hadn’t known who he was receiving it. Once he was back in his room and fully dressed he firmly resolved to be on his best behavior from now on. He’d only known the man for one full day and Jean was already too precious to him to risk losing.

+++++++++++

            The knock on his door just as he finished dressing caught Jean off guard. He hadn’t spotted the light coming from under Marco’s door on his way back from the bathroom so he didn’t know his partner was already up and dressed. He swung his door open irritably to meet the man’s big brown eyes and winning smile. His cheer was annoyingly infectious and Jean couldn’t stop himself from grinning back at the idiot. Marco greeted him first in an enthusiastic and hushed voice.

            “Oh, you’re up! Good morning,” he chirped briskly, “Are you hungry? I was about to go make some breakfast.”

            “Shit, yeah. Actually, I’ll make breakfast,” Jean pushed past him and headed for the kitchen. “Mother ain’t the only talented one around here and I have some questions you can answer while I’m cooking.”

            “Of course! Ask away,” Marco said. Jean could tell that he was delighted to see him stepping up to the plate so readily. Each of the apartment residents was expected to make at least some small contribution to the house and each of them had different specialties. However, there were very few who knew how to cook so much as a half decent meal. Jean would eventually find out that Marco wasn’t a terrible cook himself, but he certainly wasn’t good either. He could at least avoid burning his toast every morning.

            “By the way, you might want to make extra. If you’re as good as you say you are, you’ll have the entire household downstairs in five minutes or less. Trust me when I say that you do _not_ want a grumpy Annie to go without her coffee for longer than absolutely necessary.”

            “Damn. Okay, I’ll make plenty for everyone,” Jean said with a shudder at that mental image. Once they hit the kitchen, he made sure to get the coffee brewing first. “So, I know I’m gonna be training for the next half a year but I never really got an explanation of how that’s supposed to go. I don’t even know what the hell I’m training up to do either. Think you can fill me in?”

            Jean dug around in the pantry but was dismayed by the pathetic lack of real ingredients he had to work with. Even worse was the sad collection, if it was even substantial enough to classify as one, of nearly empty spice bottles. He had hoped to find Petra’s stash but when he opened a mysteriously empty cabinet with a square imprint in the dust on the bottom, he figured that she was smart enough to take her precious accoutrements with her when she left.

           He pulled a carton of eggs, a block of unlabeled white cheese, a nearly empty bottle of milk, and a package of bacon out of the refrigerator and set them on the counter. Marco pulled a fresh loaf of bread out of some secret nook in the pantry that Jean suspected was his hiding place and offered it up as a sacrifice for the greater good. Accepting it gravely, Jean set to work.

            “Well, for starters, I can give you a run-down on what we do here. Publicly, the company is a well-known technological research and development agency that contracts out to big businesses like your father’s or government organizations. You already know that you’re going to be training for combat but if anyone outside the company ever asks about it, you’re supposed to tell them that you’re training for a paid bodyguard service. What _we_ actually do is pretty vague,” Marco said as he leaned against the counter to watch Jean cook.

            “We do pretty much whatever our private clients want us to do. Erwin, our big boss, takes requests based on whether it’ll benefit the company. Sometimes he’ll do something as a favor for a friend. Most of the time that involves doing something most normal people wouldn’t be comfortable with, like wiping out a gang of criminals that the law can’t do anything about or taking down a human trafficking ring.”

            Jean had what he thought must be the biggest cheese omelet he had ever made bubbling in a giant frying pan. While he let it cook, he started frying bacon in a second pan.

            “It might sound shady to the average Joe but Erwin is pretty picky about what he takes on as jobs. He only accepts requests that won’t put the ultimate welfare of his company in danger either by physical harm or legal. He relies on us to do our jobs well enough to keep ourselves and our team safe. That’s why the company emphasizes the importance of the health of each partnership. If one of us screws up and the other can’t cover for him, it puts the entire team at great risk.”

            The omelet was almost ready to flip so Jean set the now ready and sizzling bacon aside and started buttering slices of bread and placing them on a warmed skillet. After setting six slices down he lifted the omelet pan and gauged its weight expertly. By now, there were several other people in the room watching him work but he’d been too focused on Marco and the food to see who they were. With practiced precision he flipped the pan up and launched the omelet, catching it face down without missing a beat. The kitchen was filled with sudden applause.

            Blushing, Jean went back to the toast. He pointed silently to a stack of plates he had set aside earlier and a moment later Christa was laying them out in a row so they were ready to accept food. Jean would normally have folded the omelet before serving it but the damn thing was so big that it would be impossible to split evenly. He settled on cutting it up pizza style instead and folding each ‘slice’ on its individual plate. Marco continued once Jean was back into his groove.

            “As for your training regime, it’ll be split up into different types of training for the first three months. You start with hand-to-hand combat and defense training for the first month, followed by firearms and explosives for the second month, and a mixture of bladed combat and advanced tactics theory for the third. If you finish the first three months without any major problems, Levi will approve you for two months of field training and observation. Survive that and you get to move on to running real missions with your partner and another more experienced pair.”

            “I’ll be keeping track of your progress and reporting to Levi throughout the whole process. He’s pretty strict so if he doesn’t like the way things are going he might make me discipline you.”

            “God, Marco, don’t terrify the kid like that,” said a rough female voice from somewhere behind Jean. He could feel the sneer radiating from the source and guessed it was Christa’s angry looking partner, Ymir. “We all know how strict you can be when someone fucks up.”

            Marco blushed at that and looked away with a short laugh. Jean began laying out slices of omelet next to strips of bacon and buttery slices of toast on the individual plates. Hands reached out to claim each plate the second he moved on to the next until only two plates remained. He shoved the pans and cooking utensils into the soapy water Marco had prepared while he was distributing food and grabbed the two plates. He handed one to Marco and they entered to dining room to find everyone who had been at dinner except Armin wolfing down their breakfast.

            There were a good number of pleased noises emitted while everyone ate and each person was grateful enough to pat Jean on the shoulder as they went to drop their dishes in the sink. Christa even hugged him shortly, to his great surprise, and offered enthusiastic verbal thanks. He eyed Ymir nervously while it happened but she must have been pleased enough with the food offering to allow him to live and only murdered him a little with her glare. When Jean and Marco were finally alone, Jean gave his partner a boastful lopsided smile.

            “I think they like me already.”

            “Or they’re just easily bribed,” Marco countered with a mischievous crinkle in the corners of his eyes.

            “Bullshit! I’ll have ‘em all eating out of the palm of my hand within a week,” Jean stated in challenge. He meant it too and Marco laughed as he got to his feet.

            “I don’t doubt it, Jean,” he said as he picked up their plates, “not for one minute. I’ll clean up in the kitchen and meet you in the gym. That is unless you aren’t ready to start on those training dummies,” he teased. “We can always go back to forms.”

            Jean shot to his feet eagerly and jumped on Marco’s words. The more chances he had to show his talent the better. His many late night hours of self-study had been worth it after all.

            “I’m ready! Thanks, Marco. I’ll meet you there!” he called as he bolted from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have a basic explanation of what the Corps does in this AU. Oh, and some naughtiness. I hope it was good, it felt awful fast to me but it was fun to write. I have a secret infatuation with the idea of ClosetSadist!Marco. :3
> 
> (If you haven't noticed yet, the Showers are Fun bits are part of a small plotless sub story. Things will progressively get more and more interesting there as the story continues.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco wrestles with fate, then has a change of heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally one giant chapter but I had to split it up for the sake of tolerable brevity. I guess that means you get two for the price of one, dear readers. Please forgive my long-windedness.

            In the middle of the third week of Jean’s training, Marco hit his first roadblock in his plan to stay on the straight and narrow during his partner’s first six months. It happened shortly after Jean had moved on from fighting stationary dummies to practicing his moves on a live person. That person was supposed to be Marco, but after what happened that Wednesday he ultimately ended up recruiting other Corps members as often as possible under the excuse of giving Jean as much variation as he could handle.

            The morning started much the way it had for them every day so far. Jean would make breakfast every other morning and Marco would stay behind to clean up. Then they would meet in the gym and begin Jean’s rigorous daily routine of physical training for several hours. After that, Marco would oversee Jean’s combat practice and introduce him to whichever new technique he was due to work on for the day.

            Today the new technique was grappling. It was essentially a means of maneuvering your body to wrest control from your opponent if he bodily tackled you. Marco was one of the better Corps members at using this tactic, a fact Connie had always begrudged him for. As soon as his announcement left his lips Jean perked up and grinned fiercely. He was likely recalling their first sparring match in which Marco laid him out with almost no effort at all. Marco guessed he had been dying for a chance at a rematch ever since.

            Predictably, Jean hung on every word and absorbed the information Marco gave him about the theory with hungry eyes. He felt the intensity of Jean’s gaze on him the entire time he demonstrated positions and pointed out key pivot points. Knowing the reason behind that look did nothing to ease the effect it had on his body. He did his best to ignore it but by the end of his half hour explanation, his body was thrumming with barely contained arousal and Marco was afraid he would pop a boner if he didn’t stop _very_ soon.

            Jean thankfully did not ask any questions or need any elaboration. He began practicing the stances and shifts immediately, allowing Marco a chance to calm down as he judged performance from the sidelines. However, the solo practice had ended all too quickly. Jean had an impressive capacity for quick learning and as focused as he was, he’d learned the moves perfectly. Marco had no choice but to forge ahead and begin the one-on-one sparring.

            “I’m not goin’ easy on you this time, Marco,” Jean bantered as he got into his starting stance.

            Marco was supposed to act as the attacker and throw himself at Jean so that the defender could attempt to throw him off. He prayed that his body wouldn’t betray him for the next few hours but he had little hope that it would listen. Ever the smiling teacher, he balanced himself in preparation to launch the assault. _Just breathe, don’t look him in the eyes._

           In the next instant he was dashing towards his opponent and came crashing into Jean head on. Their bodies collided at an awkward angle and he threw his arms as far around Jean as he could reach in an attempt to lock him down. He was vaguely aware of a few on-lookers and cursed the openness of the room as Jean was momentarily winded by the tackle.

           Marco felt Jean stiffen as they shuffled and struggled with each other. He could hear Jean’s heavy breathing and feel his cheek squashed against the front of his shoulder. Jean managed to twist himself during the struggle and align the side of his body with the front of Marco’s so that his thigh was wedged in Marco’s crotch. The sudden friction caused Marco to hold very still. It was a supposed to be an aggressive move but the feeling of how well Jean’s slightly smaller frame fit perfectly against his own caused him to break his concentration, heart thudding painfully fast in his chest.

           Jean perceived the change in his opponent instantly and, although he probably didn’t understand what had caused it, he wasted no time in taking advantage of it. He locked his footing and grasped Marco’s upper body as he braced his shoulder against his opponent’s chest. Then he shifted his weight and rolled backwards, using Marco’s own weight and tension to vault them over together in a roll. He planted Marco on his back much the same way Jean had landed that first day and attempted the same hold on Marco’s arm. Jean had no idea how to lock Marco’s arm properly yet and the sharp pain he felt brought him back to reality swiftly.

           “Ah! Ow! Jean, let go,” he snapped with unintentional force. Jean released him instantly and stumbled to his feet, concern flooding his features.

           “Shit! Sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you. Did I tear something?”

           “No, it’s fine,” Marco breathed as he got to his feet and tested the flexibility of his shoulder. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing at his own slip up. “Looks like you got your revenge.” There was a surprising note of bitterness in the words and Marco thought he finally understood what Connie must have felt every time Marco laid him out.

           “Marco,” the softness of Jean’s tone drew his attention, “You okay? You look kinda upset. I didn’t piss you off, did I?”

           “No, not at all,” Marco hastily replied, wiping whatever expression he’d been wearing off his face and putting on a smile once more. If he were to be completely honest, he was still feeling the physical aftereffects of having Jean pressed up against him. “I’m just having an off day. Why don’t I find someone else who can take over practice with you for today? I can keep an eye on things from the sidelines.”

           Catching Marco’s cue, Reiner stepped up and offered to be Jean’s new opponent, saying something about owing him for all the nice breakfasts he made. Jean was clearly not happy about having to practice on someone else by the grimace that twisted his features. He also clearly hadn’t bought Marco’s excuse, but he let it go without contest and agreed to the exchange.

           Moving off to the side, Marco crossed his arms and watched the two go at it. He did his best to focus only on correcting Jean’s mistakes and pointing out tips. Jean certainly wasn’t the best at grappling but he was picking it up well enough that he would be ready to move on again by tomorrow, much to Marco’s relief. He pointedly ignored the tiny voice in the back of his mind that snarled possessively whenever Reiner got a little too close to Jean during an occasional move.

\---------------

            Soon came the end of the first month and that morning Marco was forced to miss out on one of Jean’s now famous breakfasts. He sighed in mock despair at the loss as he walked through the lobby of the main tower. Rico, the company’s no-nonsense receptionist, looked up to greet him with a crisp wave. She placed a silver magnetic key card on the desk which Marco pocketed.

            “You can go on up, Levi is expecting you.”

            Marco nodded his thanks and approached the elevator furthest to the left of the three in the lobby. He pressed the call button and the door opened right away. Inside, he slid the magnetic key card into a slot underneath the only button in the elevator and pushed it when the LED next to the slot shone green. The number 13 was stamped almost defiantly above the button into the metal backing. He pocketed the key card again as the elevator took him to the top floor.

            He stepped out into a large foyer of a smartly designed business condo. Everything about the room was conversely welcoming and vaguely intimidating. The furnishings were all made of clean, efficient lines and unassuming color schemes. They enticed him to sit and talk about all manner of things in hushed tones while he assumed no one was listening in. Instead of sitting, Marco marched over to one of the only two doors in the room and knocked twice.

            “Enter,” came the sharp reply from inside. Marco entered the room and closed the door behind him, taking the seat that Levi indicated.

            He sat patiently while Levi finished working on a stapled packet of something that looked official and important. He flipped through page after page with a bored expression while pausing every few pages to sign on a line at the bottom. Eventually he reached the last page and roughly tossed the thing aside dismissively. He folded his hands and met Marco’s eyes expectantly.

            “Is he still alive, then?”

            Marco knew his smile would be wasted on his small, severe superior but he wore an honest one anyways.

            “Yes, sir. Quite alive.”

            “Hoh, I take that to mean he hasn’t royally fucked up as of yet, either?” Levi raised his eyebrows minutely.

            “He’s more than ready to move to the next stage of training, sir.” Marco couldn’t hide his pride in how well Jean had progressed. Levi wasn’t impressed.

            “And the others?”

            At this Marco faltered and the pride in his posture bled away. He couldn’t lie to his boss about anything here even if he wanted to. Levi would catch it easily and pierce holes in him until he pulled the truth out kicking and screaming. Marco wasn’t one to lie anyways, especially about such an important subject.

            “Well, sir, he doesn’t get along with everyone but he’s managed to gain their general acceptance thanks to his cooking. They don’t trust him yet. That’s understandable, and he can be … a bit of an ass, especially to Eren.” Marco expected Levi to scowl at that but instead, there was a spark of amusement in his steely eyes and a smirk tugged at one side of his mouth.

            “But, there hasn’t been a repeat of what happened on his first day. He’s managed to stay out of trouble and I feel that, with time, he’ll warm up to them.”

            “I didn’t ask you about your feelings, nitwit. What about the two of you? Is he following your lead like the good little puppy he’s supposed to be? I want that self-inflated prick trained in _every_ possible meaning of the word.”

            Levi’s harsh words rolled off of him with little effect. Marco had long since gotten used to his superior’s manner of communicating. Jean’s attitude was the real problem here but Marco was at a loss as to how Levi expected him to deal with it. When Levi sensed his hesitation to speak up, he lowered his voice into something velvety that crawled down Marco’s spine and coiled in the pit of his stomach like a venomous snake.

            “Marco. I know you have it in you to rein that boy in. I won’t call you on it this time but I expect you to have him heeled and sitting on command by the time his next progress report is due. Understand?” Levi held his gaze unblinking for a good thirty seconds before he turned his attention to the paperwork in front of him. Marco released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

            “Your report was sufficient enough so I grant you permission to continue as scheduled. I trust you have no questions for me? Good, now get the hell out of my office.”

            Marco stood with haste and fled the room. The man they called Heichou never failed to scare the shit out of him even after having known him professionally for years. His insides began to untwist as soon as he was safely inside the elevator and on his way down to the lobby. He exhaled softly to expel the shivers and allowed himself a little victory smile.

            Marco had done it. He’d convinced Levi to let Jean stay for another two months. The next progress milestone wouldn’t come up until Jean needed approval to start field training. There was the matter of Jean’s attitude to deal with but Marco set that aside for now. Jean’s behavior really wasn’t that bad overall. Whenever Marco wasn’t around, he would almost always get into a shouting match with someone, but Marco was certain that if he figured out a way to divert Jean’s pent up stress, his hot headed partner would calm down considerably.

            Naturally, this also meant that Marco would have to redouble his efforts to keep his hands off. He told himself that he could manage it so long as he didn’t have a similar incident like the grappling lesson fiasco. Since that day, he had found it harder and harder to keep his eyes off of the other man’s body. He could still recall very clearly the feel of Jean wriggling against him along his entire length.

            Marco cleared his throat and shook his head as the elevator door opened onto the lobby. Rico was blessedly absent, perhaps taking a coffee break, so he leaned over the desk and hid the key card in a place he knew she would find it. He practically skipped out the double doors on his way to the gym. When he burst through the gym doorway he found Jean out on the mats tangled in a seething ball of limbs with none other than Eren. The room was otherwise empty. He should have expected this.

            What he didn’t expect was the hot rise of jealousy that shook him where he stood. His cruel inner voice was taunting him mercilessly. _That boy has his hands all over your possession. Are you just going to stand there and let him fondle your precious partner like that?_ Not in a million years. Marco plastered a calm smile on his face and marched purposefully towards the two brawlers.

            He waited for a clear shot and grabbed the back of Eren’s collar. With one sharp heave the two men were separated and Eren fell heavily on his ass with a stunned blink. Jean had been on the bottom of the mess and scrambled rapidly to his feet as Marco addressed Eren.

            “Sorry, Eren. I hate to break up the fun, but Jean and I have a lot of work to do, seeing as how he needs to start the next stage in his training. If you don’t mind, could you forget about whatever he said to insult you as a favor to me?” Jean was staring at the back of his head incredulously while Eren wiped a line of saliva off of his chin and scowled.

            “Fuck, he got approved? I can’t believe that bastard is letting him stay,” Eren grumbled, getting to his feet.

            “Hah! You’re damn right I got approved. What the hell else did you expect, shithead?” Jean tried to shove his way past Marco but he found that the freckled man couldn’t be budged. He placed a hand on Marco’s shoulder to get his attention.

            “Oi, Marco, what the fuck –“

            “Jean.” Marco spoke his name softly without turning around. It was low enough that only his partner could hear the underlying tone of his voice. He felt the hand on his shoulder spasm and fall and knew he’d gotten his point across. In front of him Eren was brushing himself off, oblivious to the exchange.

            “Fine. It seems we’ll have plenty of chances to settle our differences some other time, horseface. See ya around,” and with that he stalked out of the gym without a backwards glance.

            Once Eren was gone, Marco turned to face Jean. The urge to wipe the offending man’s scent from Jean’s body was strong, fueled by his disappointment in Jean’s inability to keep himself out of trouble whenever Marco wasn’t there to watch him. He wasn’t going to allow the spat to ruin his good mood, but if this behavior kept up he knew he would run out of options. Staying away from Jean wasn’t something he could get away with anymore and being around him was getting harder on his self-control by the day.

            He couldn’t afford to keep a safe distance between them but he couldn’t run the risk of letting his desires burst out of him at the wrong time. Marco was effectively backed into a corner now. As Jean watched him warily and waited for him to speak, a thought occurred to him. Perhaps he was going about this in entirely the wrong manner. There might be another way to handle things successfully as long as he was careful. If he could maintain enough control, he might be able to ease his partner into it, even coax him into making the first move.

            Jean took a half step backwards on reflex when Marco closed the distance between them and placed his hand flat against Jean’s chest. Just as he had done before, the other man stilled. Genuine concern filled Marco’s voice as he leaned in and spoke directly into Jean’s ear at a level somewhere just above a whisper.

            “You know I don’t like to see you get hurt, Jean.”

            He felt Jean’s heart rate quicken under his palm and his smile deepened. He held the close proximity for a minute more and then backed off, removing his hand. Jean swayed slightly as though released from some sort of spell. He was instantly apologetic and sheepish.

            “I … sorry, I really can’t help it with that idiot. Sorry.” Jean couldn’t make eye contact and Marco honestly felt sorry for him. This was going to turn into an entirely different game and Jean was horrifically out-matched. He knew Jean was going to start picking up on his signals now -- the man was far too perceptive for his own good – but he was still too inexperienced to be able to understand them. If Marco played his cards right, Jean would fall right into his lap. He lightened his tone in order to ease Jean’s discomfort.

            “Well, that’s alright. I’m sure you two will come to an understanding eventually. But right now we’ve got a lot of work to do. I wasn’t lying about you being approved, you know. Tomorrow, we get to start you on ballistic training. For now, you can take the day off and get some rest while I work up a new program for the next month.”

            Jean relaxed back into his normal self and gave Marco a playful punch to the shoulder.

            “Great! I’m glad we’re still in this together. I promise I won’t get into any more fights today. Come hang out with me if you get bored, okay?” He was leaving rather quickly, probably getting out of dodge while they were still on friendly terms.

           Marco let him go with just a wave. Jean was going to need his rest for what Marco had in store for him over the next few months. It seemed that Levi would be getting his way after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Showers are fun part 3, Jean takes a shot in the dark.

           The morning came with a knock on Jean’s bedroom door. He was familiar with Marco’s early bird wake-up calls by now and had no reason to think that this one would go any differently. Usually, Marco would knock until Jean cracked the door enough to prove he was up and going. His partner would then wait patiently for him to get showered and dressed and the two of them would head downstairs to get breakfast started.

           This time, when Jean cracked his door open it was pushed wide by Marco’s hand. Light from the lamp in Marco’s room across the hall flooded into Jean’s comfortable darkness and he squinted helplessly against it.

           “What the –“

           “I hope you don’t mind but I decided to get you up a little earlier than usual so we can shower together.” This wicked grinning Marco standing before him in his pajamas kept his voice low so as not to disturb any of the other sleeping residents. _Am I having a nightmare? Who are you and what have you done with my friend?_

           Jean stood there and blinked dumbly until Marco sighed in exasperation and shoved past him into the room. Marco was collecting Jean’s toiletries and towel for him while he looked on in distant fascination. What was this strange creature that had replaced his passive and considerate neighbor? Supplies in hand, Marco trotted over to him and shoved them into Jean’s hands. He then leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially.

           “We should hurry and get there before someone else does or we’ll have to share the same stall.”

           An image of the two of them jammed naked together in a cramped shower came unbidden to his mind. His cheeks flamed and he was suddenly on the move. Jean followed Marco down the hall and into a thankfully empty bathroom. If the stalls were a bit bigger, he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing one with Marco. As it was, it would be impossible for them to get anything done in one of those tiny spaces.

           Jerking to a halt, his sleep addled brain skipped back over the thoughts he’d just processed. Had he really just admitted to himself that the problem with the image in his head had only been the lack of space? _Christ, man. You’re losing it. First you get turned on by a stupid whisper in your ear and now you’re having thoughts about showering with a guy who’s supposed to be able to trust you?_ Jean slapped himself awake as Marco headed into the shower area.

           Marco had been keeping a respectable distance from Jean since his training began. The two of them had developed what Jean thought was a healthy respect for each other as friends and teammates. Betraying Marco’s trust with dirty thoughts about his friend was something Jean would never want to do. It would mean he was putting the integrity of their partnership in jeopardy and according to everything he’d learned so far, that was the ultimate sin.

           At first, Jean had been curious as to why Marco had kept their partnership platonic when he’d assumed that the guy wanted them to have an arrangement similar to what the others had. However, Jean knew nothing about how to actually initiate something like that with another man so he’d been relieved when it seemed like Marco wasn’t going to push him into it. He had also been a bit depressed about it, though. The other partners seemed to feel at least some level of attraction for each other and while Jean admitted that Marco was a good looking guy, it seemed pretty obvious that Marco didn’t feel the same way about him.

           Jean supposed that was probably the real reason why he argued with everyone whenever Marco was absent, and why he had a hard time keeping his mouth shut even when he knew it would harm both of them in the long run. He never had been very good at dealing with his often conflicting emotions, especially when they were served up with a nice fat helping of frustration.

           Jean heaved a sigh and set his toiletries down in the unoccupied shower. He grabbed his tooth brush, a tube of orange flavored paste, and floss to set about the task of managing his dental hygiene as he usually did first. Marco was humming some tune he didn’t recognize from the other area and a low buzz indicated he was using his electric tooth brush. A few minutes later, Jean was ready to get wet. His mood began to improve as the hot spray blasted his muddled thoughts into oblivion. He was in the process of soaping himself up when Marco stuck his face around the shower curtain.

           “Hey, can I borrow some shampoo? I just ran out.”

           Jean released an entirely too feminine shriek and lost his grip on the bar of soap. It bounced a few times against the floor and walls before spinning to a stop between his feet. He reflexively cowered and covered his manly bits, eyes wide as Marco looked at him innocently. The pattering of water was too loud in the silence that stretched between them. Jean eventually nodded woodenly and pointed to his small bucket of bottles.

           Marco had kept his eyes on Jean’s face the entire time as though it was perfectly normal for two grown men to see each other completely naked. In retrospect, Jean would later suppose that it was a fair assumption since it wasn’t like either of them had anything the other hadn’t seen before. For now, he was too startled to do anything but stand there mute and watch as Marco dug through the bottles and picked one up to inspect it. Marco’s brows lifted when he read the label.

           “Oh, hey. This is the same kind I use. Fancy that.” He made to leave but paused when he spotted Jean’s soap lying on the floor. Catching Jean’s eye, he tilted his head slightly and smiled, the very picture of innocence. “Aren’t you going to pick that up? You could trip over it.”

           Jean imagined there were beads of cold sweat mixing with the water rolling down his back. He lowered his eyes slowly and mechanically to the bar between his feet and swallowed. Marco was still looking only at his face but the hairs on the back of Jean’s neck were raised. _You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me._

           “Ah, y-yeah. I’ll get it in a minute.”

           There was a silent stand-off between them. Jean met the other man’s gaze and Marco matched him unblinking without dropping his smile. Jean had the distinct impression that the guy was about to pounce on him like a wild tiger, which was utterly ridiculous when he considered who the subject of that impression was. The moment passed without incident and Marco shrugged.

           “Okay then. Thanks for the shampoo,” he said and disappeared back into his own area.

           Jean had to brace himself against the tiled wall to stay upright. His legs had turned into jelly and there was a hollow pit in the bottom of his stomach. He ignored the soap until he had regained enough composure to avoid falling over when he bent to retrieve it. The hot water was starting to lose its heat by the time he finally worked up the nerve to finish cleaning himself. When he stepped out of the shower Marco was long gone and his bottle of shampoo was waiting on the floor just on the other side of the curtain.

           Jean gritted his teeth at how foolishly he was acting. His partner hadn’t actually done a single thing to validate how terrified Jean had been. Once again, he wondered whether or not he was losing his mind. It was as though his instinctive warnings were going off for no reason at all. He was becoming hyperactively aware around Marco, tensing nervously whenever the guy came close to him, but he couldn’t understand these kinds of reactions given the circumstances.

           He grabbed his toiletries and stomped angrily out of the bathroom, ignoring the timid wave he got from a pajama clad Armin on the way out. Jean pushed all of the confusion clouding his head aside as he dressed himself in his room. Today he was going to move on to a new and exciting training schedule. He had better things to do than brood over his own stupidity. Things like shooting shit.

\---------------

           Shooting shit was sadly absent from the schedule today, as Jean discovered once Marco showed him to the second floor of the gym. The facilities on this floor included ballistic equipment storage and maintenance, and a large shooting range. Upon seeing the shooting range, he excitedly bounced over to it and peered down one of the lanes. Behind him, Marco was digging through a large steel cabinet that held a variety of guns hanging on hooks or supported by racks.

           Marco chose one of the smaller semi-automatic pistols and pulled a box of bullets out of a drawer. Jean watched his partner from over a shoulder as he expertly checked the weapon’s safety catch and released the clip so that he could check and fill it. Until then, Jean hadn’t ever really noticed the way Marco’s long fingers moved with dexterous precision. He handled the gun with confidence that spoke of years of experience. Jean was totally jealous.

           He’d expected Marco to hand the gun to him as soon as it was loaded but the other man turned and stepped into the nearest lane without a word. Jean hovered behind him as Marco removed a goofy looking set of ear protectors and safety goggles from a hook on the half wall separating each lane and put them on. He then picked up the gun, squared his feet and his shoulders, and in one smooth motion – which Jean had a difficult time following – he aimed and fired three shots down the lane in rapid succession.

           Jean blinked against the sudden ringing in his ears. He hadn’t thought the shots would be quite so loud. Marco was holding a button down that was set into the surface of the lane’s counter and a chain track reeled a large piece of target paper towards him. The center of the target had three small holes dotting the red circle. Marco set the gun down and turned to him while pointing to the sheet with his thumb.

           “You’ll be expected to do that by the end of this month’s training,” he said in total seriousness, “but for today, we’re going to start with your posture and work on getting you used to the feel of the gun’s weight. I might let you take a few shots to feel the kickback too, depending on how fast you pick everything up.”

           Jean was pumped and ready to go. He danced on his toes up until Marco informed him that he wouldn’t be shooting much today, if at all. His disappointed pout caused Marco to laugh.

           “Oh, don’t be upset, Jean. Like I said, if you do a good job today you’ll have plenty of time to get your shots in tomorrow,” he said as he moved aside to let Jean step forward into the lane. Jean’s shoulders slumped and he trudged up to the booth. He grabbed the safety gear Marco had removed and fitted it over his ears and eyes while Marco reeled the target sheet back out to about half the distance it had been at before.

           The gun was much heavier than it looked. Jean inspected it curiously to familiarize himself with its contours and balance. He rather liked the way it fit in his hand. He tried to recall the position Marco had taken when firing and did his best to copy it. Naturally, he also tried to copy the suave way Marco had raised the gun and fired rapidly. The gun did nothing and he scowled at its betrayal.

           “The safety is still on,” Marco hinted as Jean turned the weapon over in his hand to figure out if he’d broken something.

           “Actually, let’s leave it on for now. Your posture wasn’t bad but it can use some work. Take your ear protectors off.” Marco stepped up behind him and placed a hand on his forearm casually.

           Jean gladly removed the bulky protectors as Marco put his other hand on Jean’s opposite shoulder and made a few minor adjustments to his upper body positioning. Thanks to the incident in the shower earlier that morning, Jean was on edge the moment Marco touched him. He had to remind himself that he was being ridiculous. _He’s only trying to help, you fool. Quit freaking out over nothing._

           Marco nudged Jean’s heel with the toe of his shoe and Jean adjusted slightly. Upon repeating this with the other foot, Marco leaned back to inspect his handiwork and hummed thoughtfully into a finger curled against his lower lip. He didn’t seem quite satisfied so he stood as close behind Jean as he could without touching and mirrored the position with his own body. Jean squeezed his eyes shut and kept repeating a mantra of “don’t freak out, don’t freak out” in his head as Marco ran his hands down each leg and adjusted it for him.

           Marco was saying something to him about balance but the blood pounding in his head drowned it out. He felt Marco’s breath against the shell of his ear, the warmth of his body as he practically spooned Jean from behind. Marco’s slightly taller and broader frame made it easy for him to take hold of Jean’s wrists and bring his hands up. Jean was barely able to keep his hold on the gun as Marco leveled his arms for him and spoke into his ear. His voice was low and soft and Jean felt it bypass his brain and run straight down to his crotch.

           “Now, you see that notch on the top of the gun and the tab on the muzzle there?” despite the tone, his words were nothing more than conversational. Jean nodded weakly.

           “That’s the gun’s sight. When you aim, try to line those up in front of you while you focus on the target. Keeping both eyes open will make it easier. Go ahead and try it,” Marco suggested with a light squeeze to his wrist.

           Jean was almost panting now in an effort to stay calm. Why the hell hadn’t Marco commented on his nervousness yet? As close as they were, there was no way in hell the other man hadn’t noticed. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tilted his head a bit to look down the sight as instructed. Marco followed his movement and mumbled his approval.

           “Good, just like that. Remember not to close your other eye.”

           Jean opened his left eye and noticed the improvement it made to lining everything up. Marco had been supporting some of the weight of the gun and Jean drooped a bit when his arms were released. He brought it back up quickly and pulled the trigger once, knowing it wouldn’t do anything this time. Marco made a pleased hum and the sound vibrated through his chest. The gun wavered. Jean hoped Marco would interpret it as fatigue from holding the weapon up into position. If the man didn’t end this torture soon, Jean was sure he would pass out on the spot.

           “I think you’ve got it down now,” Marco finally said as he stepped back to give Jean some breathing room. “Just remember that position and work on aiming for now. I need to step out for a few minutes.” He was gone so fast that Jean still felt the body heat from their contact cooling as the door swung shut behind him.

           Jean released a massive breath and dropped the gun carelessly on the counter. He braced his back against the side wall of the booth and thumped his head against it, scrubbing his hands over his face. Surely Marco had fled the room in disgust thanks to his lack of concentration and his fucked up reaction to Marco’s honest attempts to help.

           “I can’t keep going on like this,” he mumbled to himself in the empty room. If he didn’t figure out what the hell was going on with him and fix it really soon, he’d be in deep shit.

           About twenty minutes later Marco returned to find Jean studiously working on aiming just as he’d suggested. Jean glanced over at him to acknowledge his presence but didn’t otherwise respond. Marco’s dark hair was even darker at the tips and clung to his forehead in some spots. Jean guessed he’d washed his face while he was away. _He was gone a lot longer than I thought._ _Must’ve taken a dump or something._

           The rest of the day was spent without any physical contact between them. Jean was able to focus enough to progress to taking his first few shots at the target. The gun’s kick was tough to handle at first and he put two holes near the very edges of the target paper. The third shot managed to land just inside the outer ring and Jean whooped enthusiastically while Marco clapped for him. By the time they finished for the day, the two men were back to their usual easy going camaraderie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story will start progressing in leaps as far as time in order to keep the story rolling. I apologize if this gets confusing. I am, of course, open to any questions. :)
> 
> Also, poor Jean. He has no idea what he's gotten himself into.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco plays hot potato, Jean finally gets it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I must express my undying gratitude for the kudos and wonderful comments! I truly cannot thank you enough, my dear readers!! I will have another chapter done in the next few days but it's going to be a long one so it may end up being two.

            After the first ballistics day’s events, Marco laid off of torturing Jean to any major degree and restricted his moves to occasional touches and easily misinterpreted phrases that he knew Jean would catch but not adversely react to. Each time it happened his partner would get nervous and flighty like a trapped animal at first, but after a moment his pupils would dilate slightly and his body would respond with an increase in heart rate and small shivers. Then Marco would back off and Jean would seem both relieved and disappointed all at once. He felt guilty about being so deceptive with his friend but Jean’s body clearly understood what Marco was saying while Jean’s mind wasn’t translating it at all.

            This game went on without a problem until Friday of the third week. It was a dangerous game to play when concentration was of extreme importance to keep oneself from getting seriously injured. Marco knew this and thought he had chosen relatively safe moments to take advantage of Jean’s sensitivity, but on that day things didn’t go as planned.

           For some unknown reason, Jean was behaving erratically that day and Marco had a difficult time keeping his attention for longer than ten seconds. They had progressed through the training much faster than Marco thought they would and today he was finishing his introductory lessons on explosives with a planned demonstration. They were standing at one end of a wide dirt field that stretched out behind the gym on the private property that the company complex was situated in the center of.

           Pot holes and sizeable ditches littered the field. There were painted metal poles spaced evenly along either side of the field as it stretched half a mile in front of them, some of which were bent at odd angles. Earlier they had passed a large wooden sign that read “DANGER! Live mine field” in bold red letters with a simple picture of a stick figure getting blown up by an explosion coming up from the ground. Someone, Marco thought he knew who, had drawn a stick figure of Sasha bending over on the other side of the explosion.

           Marco also knew that there weren’t actually any mines in the field. The sign was meant purely to inspire caution and prevent any local hoodlums from trespassing. That hadn’t stopped the occasional prankster from burying nasty non-lethal surprises, so Marco certainly wasn’t going to go marching out there if he didn’t have to. He handed the grenade he was currently discussing to Jean so he could examine it.

           “So remember not to pull the pin out until you’re about to throw it, even if you’re holding the lever down. If you pull it out early and something happens to make you drop it, you’re pretty much screwed,” he finished, hands on his hips.

           Jean’s hands were trembling slightly when he first took hold of the tiny death package but after a moment they were stable. Marco had decided that if Jean looked like he was too unwell to handle following his directions, he would take over and let Jean practice when they picked up again on Monday. He was going to have a talk with Jean at some point over the weekend about today’s behavior anyways, probably during one of the usual Sunday apartment wide video game tournaments everyone got involved in.

           “Are you ready to give it a try?” Marco asked, inching a bit closer to his partner.

           The grenade he’d given Jean was a special version designed for practice such as this by the Mad Scientist Hanji herself. It had enough explosive power to cause a lot of damage if someone was right on top of it but the casing was modified to disintegrate into powder and it was filled with special gel ‘shrapnel’ that mimicked a real grenade’s weight. Anyone standing further away than a few feet might get knocked down but would otherwise be unharmed. Even so, Marco didn’t want to risk it.

           Jean shifted from foot to foot as he held the grenade in front of him. There were beads of sweat on his brow and every so often his eyes would go blank as though he was looking through it instead of at it. Just when Marco was about to step in, Jean regained his focus and nodded. Marco stepped off to the side to give him room to throw. Jean steeled himself and before Marco could give him the signal he squeezed the lever and yanked the pin. He raised his arm over his head and jerked to a halt, eyes going wide as the entire length of his body shuddered violently.

           At that point, everything moved in slow motion. Marco saw Jean’s hand unclench and the grenade rolled free to tumble backwards into a small dip behind him. Jean stood stunned for a moment but quickly regained control. He spun around and moved to go after it without thinking. It was a common human reflex to dive after a dropped object but Marco had planned to break him of the habit with dud grenades first. Marco was already dashing for his arm to stop him but it was too late.

           Just before the flash, Marco saw Jean stop right next to the pit as he remembered that what he’d dropped was going to explode. He turned his head and locked eyes with Marco just before the blast went off. _Oops._

           “Jean!” Marco heard himself scream as the flash of light temporarily blinded and deafened him. He threw his arms up to guard against the spray of dirt and bits of liquefied gel. His ears were ringing painfully as he squinted through the cloud of dust and smoke in search of his partner. The bottom of his stomach fell out when he spotted Jean lying curled on his side facing away, a few feet from the blast zone. He was completely still.

           “No…“

+++++++++++

            _Someone was calling his name urgently. Jean ignored it. It wasn’t time for him to get up for his daily tutoring lessons yet. Besides, he wasn’t feeling well today so the old prune should just let him sleep in. Rolling over in his uncomfortable bed, Jean kicked the sheets off of him. It was hot in here and he was sore all over from having to weed the massive garden yesterday._

_He cracked his eyes open and stared around the room. This was one of the maid’s rooms. She was a kind elderly woman who always snuck him spare rolls after dinner since the mistress of the house enjoyed coming up with excuses to keep him from eating. Jean knew she would be discovered one day and fired on the spot but he was too starving to turn her down. He was also too undisciplined and miserable to thank her properly._

_He heard his name again but the voice was unfamiliar so he finally dragged himself up and out of bed. Whoever it was, they sounded terrified and desperate. Jean supposed that he should see what the hell was so important. He grabbed the doorknob and flung the bedroom door open, stepping through with a grumble on the tip of his tongue._

_Jean found himself standing in the middle of a random street somewhere in Greater Maria that he didn’t recognize. He was older now and wearing a strange uniform he had never seen before with the letters “SRDA” stitched above a shield shaped emblem depicting two crossed wings, one white over one black. He turned full circle in place, trying to determine where he was. It looked like one of the poorer outer districts with closely situated brick industrial buildings and dingy multi-story apartment complexes._

_Jean took off in a random direction with every intention of finding someone to question but the streets and buildings appeared to be completely empty. As he walked, he slowly became aware of a strange rhythmic vibration coming up through his legs from the ground. It was accompanied by a low thudding sound that was growing louder. Jean turned a corner and came face to face with a fifteen meter tall and grotesquely naked caricature of his adoptive mother hunched over and reaching out at him with twisted claw-like digits._

_Her wrinkled face was contorted in a delighted snarl, unusually large mouth hanging open and leaking saliva at the corners. Jean was rooted to the spot with terror and could only whimper helplessly as she enclosed him in her grasp. She lifted him up above her great disheveled head and emitted a low moan. Jean squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head violently. Was this really how he was going to die? As nothing more than a paltry snack for a monstrous woman he hated and feared? If only he could have died in a more dignified manner, he would gladly have given up his life._

_“It’s alright, Jean.”_

_“No! I can’t let it end like this! I still have so much to do,” he sobbed without opening his eyes. He wouldn’t accept this fate!_

_“Open your eyes, Jean. It’s just me.”_

_The voice was different. It was a male voice that he thought he should know. Jean opened his eyes to wind up staring directly into a pair of gigantic brown ones underlined by a spattering of freckles. He knew this face!_

_“M-Marco! What … why are you here? Why the hell are you so goddamn huge?!”_

_“This is your dream, so I can’t really answer that,” the giant version of Marco replied with a regretful smile. “Jean, I’m hungry so I’m going to eat you now. I hope you’ll understand.”_

_“Wait, wait! Why are you going to eat me? I thought we were partners!” Jean struggled in Marco’s unyielding grip._

_“Oh, indeed, we are definitely partners. But you’re taking too long to understand. I can’t wait around forever, Jean. If you don’t at least give me something, I’m going to starve.”_

_Marco didn’t wait for Jean to argue; he simply opened his mouth and dropped Jean unceremoniously into it. As he slid down Marco’s slimy tongue, he thought that at least it was someone he cared about that was eating him. If he had to die like this, at least doing so would benefit his partner. At least his death would have a purpose. The last thing he thought before the end was how warm and soft it was inside Marco’s mouth._

            Jean awoke to the blindingly bright lights of a medical room. He squinted through the pain in his head and took in his immediate surroundings. Turning his head even slightly made the world shift nauseatingly and he groaned and shut his eyes against the urge to vomit. A blurry figure in white that was standing off to one side of him turned around and approached.

            “You’re awake! That’s good news. A fast recovery, if I do say so myself. Can you speak? Do you know what your name is? How many fingers am I –,“ the enthusiastic female voice was cut off by a younger and much less enthusiastic male voice. Jean thought he recognized it.

            “Now is probably not the best time to start questioning him, Dr. Zoe. At least we know he’s conscious at this point. I think we should let him rest. I’m sure his partner will want to know he’s awake.”

            The voice belonged to Armin, Jean remembered, which meant that he was still on the company grounds. The last thing he recalled was standing over the grenade he had stupidly dropped and gone scrambling after as he met his partner’s eyes. The terror he had seen in them made his heart constrict.

            _I never want to see that look on his face again_ , he thought as a small plastic cup was placed carefully in his hand. He looked over at Armin in question and the boy smiled at him encouragingly.

            “It’ll help clear your head and ease the pain. You took a good hit out there but you didn’t break anything. We weren’t sure if you were going to wake up, though. I won’t bother you too much but I need to make sure your head is doing okay. Can you tell me your name?”

            “Jean,” he answered weakly. His voice was rough and he sipped on the liquid in the cup to ease his throat. It tasted a little strange but not unpleasant. “How long…?”

            “Only about twenty four hours,” Armin said, having anticipated the question. “You probably would have come around sooner but whatever they gave you that morning had to work its way out of your system on top of everything else.”

            “What was it?” he asked. Armin looked away, cheeks stained faint pink.

            “I’m actually not entirely sure. Dr. Zoe was curious and ran a few blood tests but it looked like a mixture of a couple of things. There were some herbal compounds, some over-the-counter relaxation stuff, and something she didn’t recognize. I think it was meant to be some kind of aphrodisiac.”

            Under normal circumstances, Jean would have been furious to the point of committing murder. He had suspected something was up when Connie had joined them for breakfast that morning. Even more so when the man had offered him a suspiciously tall glass of orange juice. Jean had accepted it anyways because he’d been too excited about the prospects of that day’s training to care. It wasn’t until about an hour after they had started that he’d begun to feel the effects. Jean clenched his fist feebly and swallowed the rest of the liquid Armin had given him.

            “I’m sorry about all of this, Jean,” Armin offered in quiet sympathy, “This is easily one of the worst things Connie’s ever tried to pull. I know he didn’t mean it to go that far but he’ll still be disciplined for it. Besides,” he said with a sudden beaming smile, “Marco was furious when he found out. I’ll be surprised if Connie isn’t found dead in a gutter sometime in the next few days. I’ve never seen him actually get mad. It’s pretty scary.”

            _Marco_ , he thought wistfully. _He’ll probably murder me too once he finds out I’m alright._ Jean turned away from Armin to stare out the window near his cot, wondering where his partner was right now. He was struck with a desperate urge to see Marco’s smile again, to be near him. _Aren’t you supposed to be here with me right now, in my time of need?_ Armin broke the awkward silence.

            “Speaking of which, I’d better go give him the good news. Mike and Dr. Zoe had to bodily remove him from your side this morning because he refused to sleep or eat. He’s probably taking a nap right now but I promised I would wake him up if there were any changes.”

            Jean nodded acknowledgement without turning around. He didn’t want Armin to see the blush on his cheeks. So, Marco really had been with him in his time of need. His heart soared at the thought of the freckle faced idiot hovering over him like a worried mother. Marco cared about him more than anyone else in his entire life ever had, that much was clear to him now. Jean wished he had it in him to return the favor. He was still thinking about it when the door to the clinic burst open fifteen minutes later.

            Marco stopped in the doorway in mid-stride, his big brown eyes frantic until they fell on Jean. He was sitting up in the cot now, his pounding headache reduced to a dull throb. When Jean met his gaze, Marco’s face melted into such overly dramatic relief it was comical. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes and he bubbled with joy.

            “Jean,” he practically sobbed.

            “Yo, Marco,” Jean called casually, attempting to play it off like it was just another day on the job.

            Marco crossed the room in three long strides and threw his arms around Jean, burying his face in Jean’s neck. He could feel Marco’s tears soaking into the cheap hospital gown. The embrace was painfully tight and Jean could barely breathe but Marco was trembling and he couldn’t bring himself to push the big buffoon off. All he could do was wait for his partner’s inevitable tirade to come.

            “Jean, I’m so sorry,” Marco spoke into his shoulder, “it’s all my fault. I should have stopped you. I knew something wasn’t right but … I wanted to see you do it on your own.”

            _Wait. No, this isn’t right._

           “I knew how much you were looking forward to it, so I thought … if anything happened, I could just step in and take care of it. I was so stupid. I couldn’t protect you, Jean.”

_It’s not your fault. Why are you taking all the blame? This isn’t fair._

           “I was so selfish. I failed you. I was responsible for looking out for you and I failed you. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my partner anymore.”

           “Stop!” Jean snapped finally.

           Marco froze and slowly released him, backing away so he could see Jean’s face. Jean’s eyes were cold and hard with fury. His teeth were clenched tightly and his eyes glistened with moisture. After a few seconds, his anger bled away and he lifted his hands to place them on Marco’s cheeks, preventing him from looking away.

           “Marco, I don’t want to hear that shit. You’re my only partner. You’re the only one I want backing me up, okay? If you ever say anything about leaving me again, I’ll kick your ass so hard your grandkids will pop out rubbing their cheeks. Got it?”

           Marco stared back at him for several minutes in stunned silence. Jean waited for him to process his words, his dorky face changing emotions too quickly for Jean to follow. As he watched the man think, Jean became keenly aware of two things. First, he wanted to kiss Marco. Badly. The feeling came on with enough force to seize his throat shut and send a chill down his spine.

           The second was the full implication that came along with the first. All in a rush, he understood what had been plaguing him for nearly a month. The nervousness whenever he came into physical contact with Marco, the funny quivering of his insides when Marco spoke to him in _just that way_ , the need to be near him as often as reasonably possible; it all suddenly made sense. It was something that he’d only heard about from outside sources or read about in books. The real thing was so much stronger than he could have known.

_Fuck me. I’m in love with Marco Bodt._

           “Okay. I get it, Jean,” Marco was saying, “I won’t mention it again.”

           Marco was smiling one of his warm smiles again and Jean forgot what it was like to feel pain for a while. Gently, Marco removed Jean’s hands and set them on their owner’s lap. He stood and turned to leave but paused to speak first. He was using _that voice_ again.

           “I’m truly glad you’re alright. Get better soon so we can get back to work, okay? I’ll wait for you, as long as it takes.”

           Jean wanted to think that the double meaning of his last sentence had been intentional, but he already knew Marco wasn’t interested in that kind of partnership. Now that he’d finally discovered the root of his problem, he knew things were only going to get more difficult from here on out. He gave Marco a parting grin that he didn’t entirely feel.

           “No problem. I said it before, didn’t I? I’m tougher than I look.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco hits a wall, Jean gets a nasty surprise when the cruel hat of fate strikes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The writing bug consumed me and I got a lot done but as I expected it was longer than I thought, so I had to split it up. The second part (chapter 10) has more goodness. :3

            It was a week and a half after Jean’s encounter with the grenade and Marco was in a dark mood. Aside from a good number of bruises and a bump on the head, Jean had recovered enough by the following Monday to be cleared for continuing his training, sans any heavy exertion. Marco was glad to have him back on track but Jean had suddenly grown distant and cold. He avoided putting himself in situations where Marco could easily touch him and never allowed himself to be alone with Marco for longer than a few minutes at a time.

            In light of Jean’s injuries, Marco understood the physical aversion somewhat but even Jean’s attitude had changed. He responded to Marco with as few words as needed or with nods and head shaking, and he stopped looking Marco in the eye when they talked. The behavior was starting to get on Marco’s nerves, which was not an easy task by any means. Maybe he had come on too strong in the clinic and Jean was disturbed by it. Maybe he really was upset with Marco for letting him get hurt and had only said those things to calm him down.

            Either way, Marco carried on as if nothing had changed. Only, with the way Jean was avoiding him, he hadn’t been able to further his secret plans. If he didn’t do something drastic soon, he was afraid that everything he had built up so far would crumble and the two of them would never make any progress. He clenched his hands into fists at the thought of Levi expelling Jean just because they weren’t getting along as well as he felt they should. No, Marco knew he had to act soon.

            Fortunately, today was the day before Halloween and Marco had a backup plan. Tomorrow, everyone would have the day off to celebrate as was the custom every year. There would be a Corps-wide costume party held at the apartment house, complete with mountains of food and oceans of booze. Technically, about half of the Corps members were a year or two shy of legal drinking age. Marco and Jean were both in that category, although Marco would be legal next June. He didn’t know when Jean’s birthday was but he probably had at least another year and a half to go.

            None of the others ever seemed to mind them drinking, though. It was one of the few days out of the year that everyone got to put everything aside and just have fun. Therefore, it was a silent understanding among the older members to look away if an adult beverage happened to find its way into a not-quite-legal hand. Marco had no doubt that Jean would be forcibly introduced to the finer arts of guzzling beer. If he happened to get tipsy enough to ignore his inhibitions, maybe Marco could ferret out some information on what was actually going on in his head.

            Of course, Marco would never take sexual advantage of his drunken partner. All he wanted was a chance to interrogate Jean without the other man closing up on him. He would make arrangements with the other party goers tonight during the costume drawing to ensure that his partner was well cared for. And thanks to Connie’s incredible screw up with the aphrodisiac cocktail no one would dare risk upsetting him by lacing Jean’s drinks with something unwanted.

            Later that evening after their final ballistics lesson had ended, Marco approached Jean as they were washing their faces in the locker room.

            “It looks like you’ve learned everything you can from this month’s regime. You did a great job, even considering what happened the week before last.” Marco thumped a hand on Jean’s shoulder in a friendly manner but Jean shrugged it off and started for the exit.

            “Yep. I’m ready to move on,” he shot back over his shoulder.

            “Ah, wait a minute,” Marco called after him and he finished his cleanup hurriedly and sprinted to catch up to the other man. Jean had slowed his pace enough not to leave Marco behind but didn’t otherwise respond.

            “Um, everyone’s getting together tonight for the yearly costume drawing and they asked me to make sure you show up for it. I don’t want to bother you with it but it would make me really happy if you tagged along,” he was beaming a smile that he hoped Jean would see.

            “Sure.”

            That was all the reply he was going to get, it seemed. Jean hadn’t even looked at him. Marco sighed softly under his breath and kept pace with Jean in silence until they reached the apartments. Jean headed straight for the stairs up without a word and Marco followed with heavy footfalls. When they reached their rooms, he knew they would separate and he wouldn’t see or hear from the man for at least a few more hours. If he was going to make this work, he had to get things moving now.

            “Jean, I need to talk to you about something,” he said, hoping his partner would stop on his own. When he didn’t, Marco reached out to wrap a hand around his forearm. Jean halted in the middle of the hallway and shot him a blank stare.

            “Yeah? What is it?” There was no hostility in his voice. In fact, there was nothing at all. Marco’s felt a pang in his chest but he maintained his cheerful smile as well as he could.

            “Listen. I don’t know what I did to upset you and I won’t force you to talk about it, at least right now. But whatever it is, we should try to work through it. I want you to know that you can talk to me about it anytime. I promise I won’t get upset, just,” he gave Jean a pleading look and the other man flinched, “please let me try to fix it.”

            Jean considered him at length and for a moment it almost seemed like he was going to let everything come spilling out. _This is good, he wants to tell me. I can work with that._ In the end, he must have decided against it because he shook his head slowly and turned away.

            “It’s not your problem,” he said almost too quietly to be heard and pulled his arm free.

            “Okay, I’ll accept that for now, but I hope someday soon you’ll reconsider,” Marco said to his retreating back. Just before Jean disappeared into his room, he piped up again. “I almost forgot, we’re getting together for the drawing after dinner so try not to disappear as soon as you’re finished.”

            “’Kay,” was all he got before the door slammed shut.

+++++++++++

            It wasn’t working. No matter how hard he tried Jean couldn’t get Marco out of his head. Every minute spent with his partner drove him closer and closer to blowing his top and snapping at the man. If he thought it was bad _before_ he knew how he felt, knowing and trying to fight it just made it ten times worse. He kept trying to make space between them, kept trying to abide by what he thought had been established as a friends-only rule, but his body and his mind betrayed him every step of the way.

            Since he had discovered his feelings, he had worked as hard as possible not to give himself away. Distancing himself was the only solution he could think of to avoid betraying Marco’s trust, but his partner was far from stupid. Marco was catching on to the hints that something was up. Guilt impaled him in the chest every time his partner looked at him with those big brown puppy eyes all filled with concern.

            Jean couldn’t tell him a damn thing. Marco was his friend, but that was all. If he discovered that Jean was harboring perverted thoughts about him he would probably have their partnership called off. After all, it would be impossible to work closely with someone if you couldn’t trust them to keep their hands off when you weren’t looking. Jean would do anything to keep them from being separated, even if it meant keeping this painful fiasco going. But this fiasco couldn’t last forever.

            It was becoming clear that Jean was putting their professional relationship at risk. Marco cared too much to let him keep up the cold shoulder act without a good reason, as evidenced by his prying attempt in the hallway earlier. If he knew Marco at all, he would just keep pushing little by little until Jean either told him the truth, or a satisfactory lie. Somehow, Jean suspected he would know the lie for what it was even if it was convincing enough for any other person. At this rate, he was rocketing full throttle towards disaster and saw no safe way out.

            There was a shuffling sound outside Jean’s door that drew him out of his mired thoughts. No one knocked but he could hear whispers and the rustle of paper. Jean glanced at his digital clock. Dinner would be starting in less than half an hour so he might as well get off his ass and find out what was going on outside his room. His big dilemma could be put on hold for at least tonight.

           Whoever was outside must have heard him rustling around because the sounds stopped abruptly. Jean heard hasty footsteps heading down the hall towards the stairs and when he opened his door, there was no one to be seen. One the outside of his door he found a half taped paper cutout of a cartoon princess attached to the middle. He scowled and ripped it off, crumpling it into a tiny ball and tossing it down the hallway in the direction that the culprits had fled.

            This wasn’t the first time someone had done this, and it hadn’t always been princesses. There were sometimes princes as well, and other random royalty related paraphernalia like paper fast food crowns or cut-outs of frilly lace-topped shoes. It had been going on for weeks. He knew Eren had a large hand in it, or at least had been the one responsible for it catching on. He had also caught some of the others referring to him as Prince instead of by his name and it was beginning to stick. It was just another frustration to pile onto his already frustrated life.

            Slamming his door shut behind him, he spotted Marco’s cracked door and peeked into the room. It was dark and empty from what he could see so he shrugged and headed down to the dining room where he expected to find his cheerful companion chatting up one of the other residents. Instead, Marco was absent and there was a bit less overall cheer in the room. Jean landed heavily in a single empty chair between Mikasa and Reiner.

            Jean got along with Reiner fairly well compared to any of the others. The big blonde had helped him a few times throughout his training and Jean had come to learn that despite his intimidating looks and stoic atmosphere, he was a pretty easy-going guy. Mikasa, on the other hand, was a cold beauty to him. She was by far, in Jean’s opinion, the most beautiful woman in the company. He had attempted to talk to her a few times but she had been tight-lipped and uninterested each time. Eventually, Jean had given up and resigned himself to admiring her from afar and hating Eren for being the only one she showed any sort of real emotion to.

            A few more minutes of lounging passed before the rest of the missing residents meandered in and took seats. They arrived in a pack as though they had all gone off to do something together and had just finished up. Annie walked in first followed by Ymir, Bertholdt, Sasha, Connie, and finally Marco. Each missing partner took a spot next to their other half while Connie sat in the middle of the opposite side of the table. Marco sat next to him and directly across from Jean, offering him a smile that seemed to say he understood Jean’s desire to sit alone.

            Shortly thereafter, Petra brought the food in. Wednesday night was one of her usual cooking nights but the meal was relatively light. She had explained earlier that she was going to be making a lot of food for Thursday’s party so she intended to make something simple the night before so as not to burn herself out. She laid three gigantic homemade pizzas out and a stack of paper plates to pass around. _If this is what Mother considers simple, I can’t wait to see what she has in store for us tomorrow_ , he thought as he eagerly nabbed a slice of Hawaiian style that was big enough to hang off the edge of his plate.

            The pizza was devoured rapidly and as soon as the empty baking stones were cleared, Connie wasted no time in taking a black fedora from under the table and placing it top down in the center. He stood as tall as he could and cleared his throat, adopting a serious and business-like air. The room quieted in anticipation of what was about to happen. Across the table, Marco winked at Jean before giving Connie his attention. Jean had no idea what the hell was going on.

            “As you all know,” Connie began gravely, “tomorrow is our annual Halloween costume party. Most of you already know how this works but some of you have yet to experience the joy that is this auspicious event. I’ll give you a basic rundown to get them up to speed.” At this, he looked at Jean, Eren, and Armin each in turn.

            “It’s a costume party so everyone’s required to dress up, but there’s a catch. Since we have a lot of partner pairs to work with, we came up with a tradition that’s been going on for several years now. The way this is going to work is, one person from each pair gets to draw a piece of paper from the hat of fate.” Connie indicated the fedora sitting in the middle of the table where it loomed menacingly.

            “Each piece of paper has a costume set that you and your partner must wear for the party. Which person dresses up as what is between the two of you, so you can work that part out later. When that’s done, I’m going to have one of you draw this year’s theme for the costumes,” he said as he took a thin deck of cards and set it face down on the table in front of him.

            “For those of you who don’t already know about it, Hanji’s been collecting costume stuff for years. You can get almost anything you need from her but she may ask you to pay a price for it. Just be careful what you agree to. She’s been warned not to make any of us do anything questionable or dangerous but she might still try to ask. Now, are you guys ready to spin the wheel of fate?”

            There were grim nods all around. Jean wondered why this was considered such a serious affair. Weren’t they just going to have to dress up as something silly like a giant chicken or a zombie? He watched in fascination as Connie passed the hat to his left and it claimed its first victim. Sasha closed her eyes and stuck her hand inside, a bead of sweat forming on her brow. She then carefully unfolded the small piece of paper she had chosen and read it.

            “Boss and secretary, yes!” She whooped and high-fived Connie.

           The hat was then passed to Ymir who held it out for Christa to draw. Christa stuck her hand in and rattled the papers around, pulling out and unfolding her pick curiously. Ymir leaned over to peek at the small square. Her eyebrows rose and her mouth formed a delighted ring.

           “Hunter and beast,” she proclaimed confidently as she tossed an arm across Christa’s shoulders. “I know which one I’m taking.”

           Christa blushed profusely and slid the hat across the table to Bertholdt. He stared solemnly into the hat as though praying for mercy. Then, he reached in and took the first piece of paper he touched. He handed it to Reiner so that his partner could do the honors while he watched. Reiner ‘hmm’ed softly at what was written on it.

           “Cop and robber,” he grunted, handing the paper back to Bertholdt and sliding the hat to Jean.

            Jean had been enjoying everything so far. None of the costumes had seemed particularly embarrassing so he didn’t hesitate in drawing his lot. Opposite him, Marco waiting for the verdict with a tiny smirk. Jean unfolded his paper and read it. What he found scrawled on the little square made him go cold. _What the fuck? No, oh fuck no._ Marco coughed softly and Jean realized everyone was waiting for him to read it.

            “Ma-“ his voice cracked trying to get it out, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Maid and butler.”

            There were a number of impressed noises made around the table. Connie had a vicious grin on his face and a few people were barely suppressing their laughter. Eren snorted from Mikasa’s other side and Jean crumpled the paper and threw it at his head. He grabbed it in mid-air and bounced it across the table to Marco, who caught it and slipped the little wad into his pocket before Jean could reclaim it. Jean grumbled under his breath and slid the hat to Mikasa.

            Mikasa wasted no time in drawing her piece of paper. She unfolded it with military efficiency and showed no change of face when she read it aloud.

            “Teacher and student,” she said matter-of-factly and folded it back up.

           Across the table from her, Annie met her gaze and they both nodded with a combined we-got-this attitude. She then passed the hat to Eren, who stuck his hand too far into it and knocked a few folded pieces out. He shrugged and put them back in but held onto one as his chosen piece. Eren unfolded it with a carefree attitude but his face turned sheet white when he read what was on it. He immediately crumpled the paper and stuck it in his pocket, sliding the hat over the Armin at the head of the table.

           Everyone at the table was staring at Eren expectantly. When he silently refused to reveal his choice, Connie crossed his arms and shot a pointed look to Ymir. She sneered and got to her feet. Eren followed her warily with his eyes as she came around the table and proceeded to kick Eren’s chair out from under him.

           Mikasa jolted to her feet at the sudden assault but before she could make a move Ymir had already confiscated the paper from a struggling Eren’s pocket. She cackled like a mad woman when she read it and tossed the paper into the center of the table. Connie picked it up and read it aloud for the rest of them.

           “S and M duo,” he said and started laughing just as hard as Ymir. A few of the others laughed too but most of the table shook their heads in sympathy and left Eren alone to reseat himself and brood. Once that was taken care of Armin put his hand in the hat, to the surprise of almost everyone present. He drew a piece of paper with shaky fingers, sighing in open relief when he read it.

           “Puppy and kitten,” he said with a shrug. “I promised someone I would do this as a late birthday present,” he offered sheepishly by way of explanation. It didn’t alleviate anyone’s curiosity.

           Jean wondered who Armin intended to partner up with for his costume assignment. As far he knew Armin wasn’t in the Corps but there had been rumors that he was intimately involved with someone in the company. As of yet, no one had been able to figure out who it was. By tomorrow it wouldn’t matter, though, as the big secret would undoubtedly be revealed during the evening’s festivities when someone showed up in the complimentary costume.

           The hat was returned to Connie and he picked up the stack of cards in front of him. Shuffling twice, he fanned them out and held them face down in front of Marco. Marco twiddled his fingers thoughtfully as he considered which card to pick. He settled on the one third from the right and handed it back to Connie without looking at it. Connie set the stack down and flipped the card face up on the table. A word was printed in large type across the face and Connie read it out loud even though he didn’t have to.

           “Slutty,” he said with a wide grin. “Okay, folks. That’s the overall theme for the party so whatever costume set you picked, you have to dress up as a slutty version of it.” There were a few groans and Ymir made a face.

           “That’s the third time in a row you’ve pulled the slutty card, shorty. Are you sure you don’t have duplicates in that deck,” she growled.

           “Of course not, you can check the cards if you don’t believe me.” Connie seemed mildly offended. “Besides, last year some of you didn’t stick to the theme. Not that I can really blame ‘em after the bad picks we got. Who the hell wants to see a slutty plumber?”

           Bertholdt giggled, catching Jean by surprise. Judging by the look on Reiner’s face, he could guess who the plumber had been last year. He was glad he hadn’t been there to see it.

           “Fine, fine. You got a point,” she conceded, dismissing him with a flick of her wrist. “At least we got good ones all around this time.”

           “Yeah, so don’t you guys wimp out on me this time,” Connie told them. “You got all day tomorrow to get your stuff together but I’m getting started tonight. Good luck, fools,” he tossed over his shoulder on his way out, Sasha bouncing happily behind him.

           Everyone got up and dispersed to discuss their plans for the next twenty-four hours. Marco slid up next to Jean on his way out the door but said nothing as they headed back upstairs together. Jean was actually in a pretty good mood at the moment so he initiated the discussion that he thought Marco really wanted to have just then.

           “So, who gets to be the maid? I don’t really mind since I practically _was_ one back at _that_ place,” he offered in total jest, hoping Marco wouldn’t mistake his flippant words as being meant with any amount of seriousness. Marco did anyways, much to his dismay.

           “Really? You don’t mind,” Marco said. “Are you sure it won’t make you uncomfortable? I don’t think anyone will blame you if you back out.”

           “Huh. You wanna be the one in the frilly dress that bad?” _Of course I fuckin’ mind, but I’m not about to admit that to you, or anyone else for that matter._

           “No, no,” Marco waved his hands frantically, “I prefer the butler! I just don’t want you to be miserable the entire time.” There was that damn concern again.

           “Psh, are you kidding? With this face I can make anything look good,” he retorted with a grin.  _Fuck, shouldn’t have opened my big mouth after all. Guess I’ll have to own it now._

           He was starting to feel like his old self again, talking to his partner casually like they were old buddies. Maybe this party would actually be good for him. He hadn’t been honest about the maid costume at all but he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit to that. He had too much pride and self-confidence to back down now that he’d stepped up to the challenge. Besides, he would get to see his colleagues at their most embarrassed too so he wouldn’t be the only one getting teased. This party was something he could look forward to and something he desperately needed at this difficult juncture.

           “Let’s go see the Mad Scientist first thing tomorrow,” Marco was saying. “Our costumes are easy so I know she’ll have whatever we need. Plus I have the perfect payment for her services.”

           “Sure, I’ll catch you then,” Jean said as they stopped in the hallway between their respective rooms. Jean had a momentary lapse of concentration and actually grabbed Marco’s wrist. He had no idea what he’d intended to do after that because, as soon as he registered the touch and Marco’s widened eyes, he jerked his hand away and backed up a step.

           “Ah, g-good night,” he said and retreated into the darkness of his room. Behind him, Marco called a sad parting that stabbed him right in the heart, again.

           “Good night, Jean.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean works it -- twice, Marco misbehaves, Jean takes a step forward and a step back.

           Jean needed something to calm him down. The feel of Marco’s wrist under his fingers still burned. He remembered the softness of his skin and how warm it was and the memory of his partner pressed up against his back in the shooting range came to him unbidden. Blood rushed to his head and his crotch, making him light headed. At least he was on his bed so he wouldn’t hit anything if he passed out.

           “Shit,” he mumbled into the darkness of his room. He was hard now and his fingers twitched with the urge to fulfill his current need. “Might as well take care of it.”

           Jean unzipped his khaki cargo pants and shimmied out of them, sliding his boxers down just below his hips. His hips gave an involuntary jerk as he took hold of his erection with one hand. The other moved further down to cup his balls. He closed his eyes and put himself back into the memory, recalling the sensations he’d felt at the time. In his head, Marco was taking things further than they had gone in real life.

           Jean pumped his hand and worked his erection and in the fantasy it was Marco doing all the work. His partner had his hands around his wrists like before, only now they were sliding up his arms. Long fingers trailed back to his shoulders, down his sides and perched on his hips. Marco had the shell of his ear between his teeth and his tongue was flicking his skin lightly. In the real world, he shivered and bucked his hips into his hand.

           Memory Marco slid those damn fingers of his around to Jean’s stomach where one hand splayed flat against the skin below his navel while the other stole its way under his pants. Marco’s fingers divided around his hard shaft and framed him through the fabric of his boxers. He squeezed gently and whispered into Jean’s ear.

           “Looks like you need an extended lesson, Jean. Shall I give you a demonstration?”

           “Nngh.”

           Jean’s breath hitched and he clenched his teeth. He was fast approaching his climax. Usually it would take him much longer but this was the first time he’d used Marco to get himself off. Memory Marco used a thumb to slide the edge of his boxers down and free his cock. He wrapped his hand around Jean’s member and pressed the tip of one finger to the head, smearing pre-cum around the tip.

           “You’re so wet, Jean. Such an eager apprentice. Do you enjoy having me teach you that much?” Marco was kissing his way down his neck.

          J ean nodded both in real life and in his head, making a strangled noise in the back of his throat as his dick throbbed in his grip. His other hand massaged his balls while his pumping increased. It wouldn’t be long now, and he imagined that the hand working him was Marco’s. It would be bigger and warmer than his own and those long fingers would press into his flesh and trace the veins in a way that would have Jean mewling like a kitten.

           “I want to hear you call for me, Jean. Call my name and come for me,” Memory Marco commanded softly.

           “Mmm, ah! Ma-Marco!” Jean gasped out loud and complied by spilling his seed all over his hand and lower stomach.

           Jean panted heavily as Memory Marco’s pleased smile faded from his mind. He grabbed the first thing he could reach, a hand towel he had used earlier that morning, to wipe himself off. Tossing it aside, he pulled his boxers back up and rolled over, eager to get some rest before tomorrow’s insanity began. He didn’t catch the dim glow under his door disappearing as a light from across the hall was switched off.

\---------------

           Morning came with a sense of peace and good rest that Jean hadn’t known for a long time. He was refreshed and in high spirits when he stormed out of his room and headed for the showers. Marco’s door was open and by the look of things, his freckled partner was already out and about. He wasted no time in getting ready since he’d overslept by almost an hour thanks to last night’s activities. Jean didn’t really feel guilty; he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since he’d come to terms with his feelings for Marco.

           He found his partner attempting to make French toast in the kitchen downstairs. Jean had walked him through it a few times but Marco didn’t seem to have the same knack for cooking and had only ever managed to make something somewhat palatable. At least he wasn’t burning the kitchen down. Jean came up next to him and leaned on the counter to watch him chase a mischievous piece of eggy toast around the skillet.

           “You never learn, man,” he said, amused by Marco’s inability to conquer the offending square of bread. Marco must not have noticed him because he jumped and inadvertently flipped the toast – something he’d been trying to do this whole time – in the process.

           “Wuah! Jean, don’t do that!” He gave Jean an exasperated look.

           “Heh, maybe I should do it more often,” he said, indicating the flipped toast. Marco looked at it suspiciously.

           “That was a fluke. Anyways, I already made you some so why don’t you go eat it before it gets cold? I know it’s not as good as yours but I think it’s edible enough not to choke on,” he said as he handed a plate of pathetic looking pieces to Jean.

           They looked sad and slightly mangled but they smelled good so he took them over to the island and tried one. Contrary to their appearance, they were actually quite tasty. Jean said as much when Marco joined him with his own plate. This was when Jean noticed the dark circles under his partner’s eyes and the droopy look to his face in general.

           “Oi, Marco. You look like shit, man. Did you pull an all-nighter or something?”

           “Huh? Oh, no,” he said distractedly, toast poised half way between his mouth and his plate, “I just didn’t sleep well.” The smile he offered lacked its usual sunny glow.

           “Something wrong? You wanna talk about it?”

           Marco looked at him for a few seconds in consideration before answering. Jean couldn’t read his face at all but he was obviously having trouble with whatever had caused him lack of sleep. He thought for sure that Marco would spill the beans without hesitation. He had never held anything back before, at least not that Jean was aware of.

           “Don’t worry about it. It isn’t your problem,” he said with a much brighter smile. Before Jean could get angry at the obvious jibe he continued. “We have a lot on the menu today. I thought it might be a good idea to get our costume arrangements out of the way first. I also promised Connie that I would help him set up so that gives us a little less than seven hours to get everything done.”

           “Fine by me. Don’t forget I’m helping Mother cook later too,” he reminded Marco.

           When Petra asked him for help with cooking yesterday she hadn’t mentioned that it was for the party but Jean had agreed whole heartedly without asking. He was salivating over getting his hands on her professional equipment, no pun intended. She had informed Jean in passing last night that he should make himself available as soon as he could a few hours after lunch. That gave him even less time to spend with his partner but with things as tense as they were lately, that was probably for the best.

           “Oh. Alright, in that case we should get going. I need to go grab something from my room. Meet me out front and we’ll pay the Mad Scientist a visit,” Marco said as he stuffed the rest of his food into his mouth.

           He dumped the plate into the sink and vanished. Jean met him a few minutes later outside the building and they took off for the main tower. Inside the lobby, Rico was in the middle of a conversation with a tall blonde man in a suit. The guy had a thin moustache and a small patch of hair on his chin and if Jean believed what he saw, he must have been even taller than Bertholdt. He was asking Rico about what she was going to wear this evening when they approached.

           Rico turned to them and held out a black and orange key card without waiting for them to ask. Marco took it and waved in thanks, then moved to the elevators and pressed the call button for the one in the middle. Jean eyed the card as they waited. It was orange with black bat designs stamped on it. He snorted a laugh and shook his head.

           “You’re kiddin’ me, we need a pass to get in? What kinda setup is this anyways?”

           “You’ll see,” Marco said with a secretive wink, “It’s not something I can describe. You really just have to see it for yourself.”

           Inside, Marco inserted the key card into the slot below the button panel. The light next to it lit orange and the car started to move without either of them having pressed a button. Jean noticed that the numbers on the buttons only went up to twelve and the place where the button for number nine should have been was empty. The digital floor indicator above the door displayed “09” in red when the car stopped and the doors slid open.

           They stepped out into a dark and gloomy hallway. The atmosphere was heavy and the walls and ceiling were covered in all manner of creepy detritus such as cobwebs, ragged strips of cloth, and dirty hand prints. The opposite end of the hallway terminated in what appeared to be a rickety wooden booth-like structure that was veiled by black fabric. As they approached, a voice emitted from somewhere inside. It sounded electric and crackly as though it were coming from a low quality speaker.

           “Welcome, gentlemen. I’ve been waiting for you,” the voice said dramatically. “You are no doubt seeking my gracious assistance and unerring brilliance in preparing for your evening ventures, yes?”

           “Oh great master of disguise,” Marco replied solemnly, totally in character, “we humbly request your services, should you choose to bestow them upon our most unworthy souls.”

           “Hmmm, your respect for grandeur has not gone unnoticed. I trust that you have an appropriate form of payment for such services?”

           “Oh, I’ve brought something that I’m sure you will be _most_ interested in,” Marco said. His voice was low and throaty, as though he were propositioning a lover. Jean stared at him in bewilderment and the fool grinned right back. “Trust me. It’s more than enough compensation for what we need.”

           “Very well,” the voice replied, and a door off to the left of the booth opened inward of its own accord, “you may enter my domain.”

           On the other side of the door there was a massive room that must have spanned almost the entire floor of the building. The outer edges were lined all the way around with shelves full of all kinds of random props. The center of the room was divided into long rows of clothing racks upon which there must have been thousands of different styles and sizes of clothing. There were marked sections for male and female clothing, upper body pieces and lower body pieces of both inner and outer layers, and even a section for more suggestive attire.

           In the front and center of it all stood a brown haired woman wearing a crisp suit and a top hat. She wore glasses and a crooked smile, her hair tied up in a ponytail and one hand resting on a gem topped pimp cane. She was smiling broadly at them and spread her arms wide as they came closer.

           “Welcome to my shop! It’s good to see you again, Marco,” she said as she stepped up to him and took his hand, “and this must be your new partner. I believe we’ve already met, Jean Kirschtein. The last time I saw you, you were laid out like a dead fish in my clinic, though by the looks of you now it seems you’ve recovered just fine.”

           Her rapid way of speaking assaulted Jean and he had a hard time keeping up with her. She had already turned back to Marco by the time he registered that she’d been talking to him.

           “You mentioned that you had something good. How about showing me what you’ve got? If I like it that much, I’ll give you _anything_ you want.”

           Marco chuckled and reached into and inner pocket of the jacket he was wearing today. He pulled out a soft cover book that was wrapped in a brown paper sleeve and handed it to the woman. Eagerly she held it up and peeked under the sleeve to inspect the title. As soon as she read it, her eyes took on a hungry gleam and her smile broadened. She reminded Jean of a shark about to take a bite out of an unsuspecting seal.

           “Oh ho! I didn’t know you had volume two on hand. It’s out of print, how did you get a hold of it?” She was drooling slightly as she cradled the book.

           “Well, let’s just say it was a gift,” Marco offered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I am going to need it back eventually but there’s no rush. Just don’t damage it if you can help it, Hanji.”

           “Don’t worry. This is a precious and rare find. I’ll treat it as I would my own child.”

           “Yeah, that’s … kind of why I’m worried,” Marco said with a laugh.

           “Well then, this is definitely adequate payment,” she was back into business mode now. “What can I do for you both?”

           “What do you have on hand that would work for a slutty maid and butler set?”

           “Slutty again,” Hanji mused, her eyes alight with mischief, “I think I have just what you need. I’m assuming you’re the butler, Marco? Loan me your partner for a little while and I’ll have him taken care of in no time.”

           She hooked Jean under the arm and dragged him off into the back of the store to work her cruel magic on his pride and his manhood. After much struggling and pain, he was dragged back to the front wearing the skimpiest maid outfit ever known to mankind. The black lace-tied top came part way down his torso and stopped, leaving a good eight inches of midriff on display. The black bottom skirt was of the poofy nature and had a white apron attached to the front. It bounced provocatively to mid-thigh and tended to flutter up and reveal glimpses of the frilly white underwear he had on whenever he turned too quickly or bent over too far. On his arms and legs he wore elbow length white gloves and knee-high white stockings ending in small black slip on flats. The top also exposed a wide swath of upper chest and collar area and a white silk choker complete with bowtie encircled his neck.

           Jean stood in front of Marco as he was being inspected, habitually pulling on the front of the skirt as his partner’s eyes raked over him. He couldn’t read the look Marco was giving him as the freckled man studied his outfit, but his instinctive warnings were going off again. Eventually, Marco tore his eyes away and met Hanji’s gaze with a single nod.

           “Perfect.”

+++++++++++

            Later that evening, Marco was helping Connie put the finishing touches on the decorations in the apartment house’s living room when Connie finally asked him the question he knew had been coming for the last few hours.

            “So, what’s his phobia?”

            It was something Connie asked about every new person that joined the company. If Marco had known the answer, he would have told Connie right away. Normally, partners shouldn’t give away that kind of personal information. However, Connie was the type that, if he didn’t get a definitive answer from someone, he would just try a little bit of everything until he figured it out. That sort of situation tended to escalate to dangerous levels.

            “I don’t know yet,” Marco said, already knowing this wasn’t going to end well, “but I can try to find out tonight.”

            “Huh? Nah, don’t worry about it,” Connie said dismissively, “I’ll figure it out on my own.”

            “Connie, please don’t do anything stupid. You’ve already caused enough trouble with the cocktail incident. I don’t want to have to step in,” Marco said warningly. Connie didn’t seem fazed by the underlying threat.

            “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna try a few things and see if he freaks out a little. I promise it won’t ruin your night,” he returned, “and it’s all in good fun. Trust me.”

            “I never trust you.”

            “Well, maybe you should start.”

            “Not if I want to live through the night.”

            “That ain’t fair, man.”

            “What isn’t fair is that you’re obsessed with taking advantage of everyone’s fears for your own amusement.”

            “And for the amusement of everyone else who’s watching.”

            Marco sighed heavily. He knew he wasn’t going to convince Connie to lay off. All he could do at this point was take care of damage control after the fact. As long as Connie didn’t do anything too drastic, he figured he could handle it.

            “Fine. Just … be nice, okay? He’s going to be uncomfortable enough as it is.”

            “Yeah, okay. But don’t come bitchin’ to me later. You get to play the hero, after all.”

            They put the finishing touches on the decorations just in time for the first pair of costumed fools to arrive with a large cooler of beer. Reiner and Bertholdt carried it between them and set it down off to one side of the room as per Connie’s instructions. They were already dressed and ready for the party. Reiner grabbed two bottles from the cooler, opened them both with his bare hands, and gave one to his taller partner.

            Their costumes were definitely in compliance with the theme. Reiner had a skin-tight cop uniform on that looked to have been borrowed from a strip club’s tear-away closet. It clung to every contour of his body so that nothing was left to the imagination. Marco was afraid it would tear open like a sausage skin if Reiner flexed his muscles too vigorously. Bertholdt was wearing an open vest and nothing underneath, along with a pair of tight leather pants and a rather cliché bandana mask over his eyes. He also had a broken pair of handcuffs on, one clasped loosely around each wrist.

            The two of them took their bottles into the dining room where Petra and Jean were almost finished laying out the evening’s edibles. Together, the two cooks had managed to whip up an impressive array of snacks and finger foods in enough quantity to ensure that everyone would get a chance to sample everything at least once, even accounting for Sasha’s food obsession. Once the last multi-tiered tray was set out, Jean trotted over to Marco.

            “I’m gonna go get dressed. What about you,” Jean asked a little breathlessly. There was a streak of flour across his cheek that Marco tried very hard no to wipe off.

            “I’ll come with you,” he replied. “You haven’t seen mine yet so I could use your input before I show everyone else.”

            They climbed the stairs and split up into their respective rooms to don their chosen attire for the evening. Marco’s costume consisted of a standard butler uniform without much modification. Hanji didn’t have anything butler-esque that fulfilled the slutty requirement and since Jean’s was a bit over the top in that department, they had decided that Marco didn’t have to worry. Jean would count enough for both. Of course, the uniform had still been a little small and was fairly tight fitting. Hanji told him in parting that it made his “ass look tasty as hell,” as she had put it.

            When Jean and Marco regrouped, he spun in place to give his partner a first look at the getup. Jean stared open mouthed at the display.

            “Woah,” his partner said with a rosy tint to his cheeks, “you look, um. That looks …,” Jean licked his lips. “That’s nice. It really suits you.”

            “Likewise,” Marco beamed proudly and held out an elbow for Jean to take. “Shall we go drop some jaws?”

            “Hah! Yeah, let’s,” Jean barked and took the offered arm. Hand in arm, they waltzed into the living room to the appropriate shock and awe of everyone present. Jean was glowing red but after a few whistles and cheers he was holding his head high and showing off like he’d been born in his costume. _That’s my boy._

            Since they’d left to get dressed, most of the other guests had arrived. Ymir was draped haphazardly in an armchair wearing only bits and pieces of striped fur as a bikini, fake claws on her fingertips, a plush tiger tail, and a pair of rounded tiger ears. Christa was seated on the chair’s arm wearing a ‘large-breasted-female-raider-of-tombs’ outfit and a vintage safari hat. She had a fake rifle strapped to her back and a drink in her hand that Ymir nabbed to take a sip from.

            On the couch Armin, Mikasa, and Annie were sitting with their own drinks and napkins filled with finger food. Armin was wearing folded puppy ears, big plush paw-shaped gloves, and a curled fluffy tail was strapped to his waist. It wasn’t exactly sexy but he was way too cute for anyone to reprimand him on it. Mikasa and Annie, however, had gone to town with the slutty idea like professionals. Mikasa was wearing a skimpy teacher’s uniform with a barely legal length skirt and fake glasses. She had a wooden paddle strapped to her side. Annie was wearing a school girl uniform with a definitely-nowhere-near-legal length pleated skirt, knee socks, and a half open button down top.

            In the other armchair, Marco was surprised to see Levi sitting with his legs crossed, drink in hand, and a predatory gleam in his cold eyes. He was wearing a rather feminine dominatrix outfit and had a riding crop resting across his lap which he was stroking with his free hand. Sitting at attention on the floor next to his feet was a red-face and stony eyed Eren. The poor boy was wearing the gimp-style compliment to Levi’s costume consisting of leather bits and straps, minus the hood. He was clearly trying his best not to draw attention to himself. Marco now understood his reason for hiding the paper the night before. Next to him, Jean had the grace to keep his snickering behind his gloved hand.

            Whoever Armin’s compliment was supposed to be, they hadn’t shown up yet. Other than that, Marco could see a few people meandering around in the dining room. He dug through the cooler and pulled two bottles of Peeved Orchard cider from inside, popping the caps off with the church key sitting on the lid. He handed one to Jean who examined the label before taking a sip.

            “Damn, that’s pretty good,” he said, impressed. “This is my first drink, you know. If all of it’s like this, I think I could get used to it,” and he took a large swig for emphasis.

            “Careful, Jean,” Marco warned, sipping his own bottle. “That stuff is easy to drink. You should pace yourself since you don’t know your limits.”

            Marco wanted Jean to get a little drunk, but not completely smashed. His only goal was to get Jean past his inhibitions so he would talk openly. Marco didn’t even know for sure if his partner would be a talkative drunk, but he wouldn’t be an anything drunk if he didn’t keep an eye on things. He steered Jean to sit on the vacant end of the couch and went into the dining room with the intention of bringing back a paper plate full of snacks.

            He came back just in time to finally discover who Armin’s other person was, or he should say, other people. Simultaneously, two men entered the living room side by side. Mike and Erwin were both wearing cat ears and tails, Mike’s being black and Erwin’s white. As they stood just inside the door, every pair of eyes except Levi’s and Armin’s locked onto them. Erwin caught sight of Armin, looking thoroughly embarrassed, on the couch and walked over to him with an outstretched hand. Armin took it and was lifted from his seat, only to be plopped back down into Erwin’s lap when he took the empty spot. Mike took a seat with his back against the front of the couch’s arm next to Erwin’s feet.

            After that initial shock, things settled down. The night progressed easily with drinks and food all around. Eren received a number of sharp cracks with Levi’s crop whenever Jean made a comment that pissed him off and made him attempt to stand without permission. After the eighth time it happened, Levi shot Jean a look that shut him up for good. Marco had taken a similar seat on the floor as Mike had on the other end of the couch and his shoulder was pressed against one of Jean’s legs, which his partner didn’t seem to mind.

            Jean was working on his third drink now and had gotten a number of complimentary remarks on his attire. He was swelling with inebriation and pride, even deigning to offer compliments in return. Marco had consumed two so far and was riding his light buzz when he noticed something strange. Connie and Sasha were nowhere to be seen. In fact, they had been absent since the party started.

            Getting nervous, he stood and headed into the dining room, then into the kitchen, but they were still missing. He stood in the empty kitchen and thought about what this might mean. He hadn’t realized Jean was following him until the other man spoke up from behind him, making him jump.

            “Oi, what’s up with you,” Jean asked.

            “Ah, nothing much. I was just wondering where Connie had gone off to. They haven’t been around all night.”

            “Somethin’ wrong with that?” Jean grunted with a half smirk. He had a slight slur and the bottle in his hand was much fuller than the one he’d had when Marco left him in the living room.

            “I guess not, but it makes me nervous. I don’t like it when I don’t know what he’s up to.”

            “Pff, it’s always Connie,” Jean mumbled under his breath angrily.

            “What?”

            “I said, it’s always Connie. I dunno if you noticed, but that little bastard takes up a lot of your time. I know he was your partner before but … dammit, _I’m_ your partner now.” Jean had come close enough for Marco to smell the alcohol on his breath. “Can’t you just let him do whatever the fuck he wants and pay attention to the guy that actually gives a shit about you?”

            “Jean, are you jealous?” Marco was amazed. Jean would never have said something like this while sober. _I guess he’s a talkative drunk after all._

            “The fuck do you think? Or course I’m jealous, asshole. You care about me, right? We’re friends, right? So don’t … don’t run off and look for someone else,” he chugged half the bottle to drown his annoyance and Marco had to confiscate it before he spilled it all over himself. “Hey!”

            “Jean, I think you’ve had enough for now,” he said gently, putting a placating hand on his partner’s arm, “but you’re right. I shouldn’t be thinking about anyone else right now. I’m sorry. Why don’t we –“

            Marco and Jean stopped when they heard a loud thump come from the darkness of the hallway outside the kitchen. Turning to look, they saw nothing in the square of light from the overhead lamp, though whatever had caused it had come from nearby. They gave each other a look and swallowed at the same time. Marco was the first to step forward with Jean attached to his wrist like a vice.

            Cautiously, Marco peeked out into the hallway and glanced in both directions. It was incredibly dark since the doors leading to the dining and living room further down had been shut. They were wide open when Marco had last been in those rooms. Dimly he became aware of shapes in the hall. Some of them he knew must be the various pictures, lamps, and bits of antique furniture that were placed against the walls. Some other shapes he didn’t recognize.

            “I don’t see anything moving,” he whispered to Jean, “but that worries me. Someone might have hurt themselves. We’re going to have to look.”

            Jean’s hand trembled on his arm and he offered the man a reassuring smile that he didn’t exactly feel. He stepped out into the darkness and began to feel his way along the wall. The light switch was on the other side of the living room doors and he was going to have to walk down most of the hallway to reach it. Behind him, Jean was panting softly and keeping pace with sporadic steps.

            Gradually, Marco’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness and he was able to step more confidently. There was a lump of something soft lying across the hall half way between the kitchen and living room doors and upon reaching it, Marco could see that it was a mannequin. Connie had probably dropped it there as part of whatever prank he was currently in the process of setting up. He turned to Jean and pried his partner’s hand off his wrist.

            “I can see a little better now so I’m going to go turn on the light,” he whispered. “Wait here until I do, okay? Connie left one of his props here and I don’t want you to trip over it.”

            He saw Jean nod and turn to look down at the dummy on the floor. Turning away, he felt his way down past the living room’s double doors and molested the wall on the other side until his fingers found the switch. He flicked it and blinding light flooded the space. Marco shielded his eyes and blinked until he was able to see again. When he saw Jean, he knew something was wrong.

            Jean was standing frozen against the wall where Marco had left him. His eyes were wide and unblinking as he stared down at the mannequin on the floor. His chest was moving in a shallow and rapid pace and there was sweat beading on his forehead. He was having a full blown panic attack. Marco rushed over to his side and took hold of his shoulders to shake him a bit.

            “Jean! It’s okay now, what’s wrong?”

            Jean didn’t look at him. He was hyperventilating and stiff. Marco knew he had to get him away from the cause before he fainted so he grabbed one of Jean’s arms and dragged him back the way they had come, stumbling the whole way. Jean’s eyes stayed locked on the dummy until Marco took him up the stairs and away from the scene. Once they were at the top, he pulled Jean into his partner’s own room and closed the door. The familiar environment seemed to break the spell of terror and Jean sank heavily to his knees.

            “Jean, what was all that? Talk to me,” Marco pleaded, kneeling beside him.

            “Dolls,” Jean said meekly with a swallow. “It’s the eyes. Anything like that does it, if it looks human and isn’t alive. It’s like … they could come alive at any minute. I can’t stand them,” he croaked.

            Marco threw his arms around him and Jean stuffed his face into his shoulder. He could feel Jean’s entire body trembling with the residual fear so he stayed in that position until the other man calmed down. Once he was steady Jean pushed him away lightly and got to his feet. He sat on the edge of his bed as Marco stood, making no move to join him. He refused to meet Marco’s eyes and by the sway of his movements, he was still very drunk.

            “Are you alright now?”

            “Yeah, fine. You should go back to the party. Still a lot of people there.”

            “The only person I want to spend time with is here.”

            “The fuck? They’re your friends too.”

            “They _are_ my friends, by you’re my _partner_.”

            “So, you can spend time with me whenever. Just go hang out somewhere else. I’m tired. Goin’ to bed -”

            “Jean, talk to me,” Marco interrupted him. He wasn’t smiling now and his voice had taken on the low and commanding tone that he had used only once before. Jean flinched and stared at his feet, so Marco crossed the room and kneeled directly in front of him. He placed two fingers under Jean’s chin and lifted so that their eyes met.

            “You’ve been hiding something, Jean. I know it’s bothering you but you won’t tell me about it. I told you before, I’m willing to listen to anything and I won’t get upset. So, please, just talk to me.” He held Jean’s gaze until the other man was on the verge of tears.

            “I can’t,” Jean whispered. “Every day people talk about the fuckin’ partnership. It’s all about the partnership, don’t threaten the goddamn partnership. But I can’t stand it. We’re together all the damn time but we’re not. I thought it was supposed to be like all the others but it’s not. You don’t want it to be like that. I know, I got the message way back then, but I can’t help it. I …” Jean cut himself off and slapped Marco’s hand off of his chin, shaking his head.

            “Wait a minute, Jean. What do you mean I don’t want it to be like that? Be like what?”

            “Like them. You know, intimate. I thought that’s the way it was supposed to go but you aren’t into that. You made it pretty clear.”

            “How did I make that clear?” Marco was honestly confused. Jean had gotten the idea in his head that Marco had no interest in him at all as an intimate partner but he couldn’t think of how that had happened.

            “The first month, idiot. You didn’t do anything. You stayed away. I don’t have a lot of experience but even I know what it means if someone doesn’t wanna be close to you. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

            Marco felt a chill run down his spine as he finally understood. Jean was referring to the first month when he had been desperate not to go too far and hurt Jean or ruin their budding friendship. He had purposefully stayed as far from his partner as he could without being too obvious. He had done so under the assumption that he could progress with something more once they were past the six month training and confirmed as partners. It was entirely his own fault that Jean, being far more perceptive than he gave the man credit for, had sensed his distancing and taken it the wrong way.

            “It’s eating me alive, dammit,” Jean was saying, “if I don’t get over this, I’m gonna fuck up and do something stupid. Then you’ll be asking for some other partner and I just can’t … I just can’t have anyone else.”

            “What is it you’re so afraid of doing?”

            “Wha … oh. Stuff. Bad stuff, like when you were on me back then, in the shooting range. Only more like taking it much further,” Jean stammered, he was too shy about this subject to talk candidly about it.

            “I don’t understand, Jean. I need you to spell it out for me,” Marco cooed, trying to draw him out. He knew full well where this was going now that he understood how Jean saw things, but if he wasn’t careful he would end up doing something they both might regret in the morning. “Tell me, what is it _exactly_ that you’re afraid of doing?”

            “To … touching you. Or kissing,” Jean was breathless and nervous. “It would screw everything up if I kissed you. I can’t let that –“

            Marco was on him before he finished. He surged forward and caged Jean between his arms, arching his neck and fitting their lips together. He angled his head and pushed up against Jean so that the shorter man had to lean his head back. At first, Jean was too shocked to respond but through the slow haze of alcohol he finally processed what was happening and pushed back against Marco’s mouth with reckless abandon.

            They kissed sloppily and with the fervor of inexperienced youth. Marco hummed against Jean’s mouth and slid his fingers into his partner’s hair. Just as he’d imagined, the strands were soft and Jean sighed at the sensation, giving Marco a chance to dive into the other’s mouth with his tongue. Jean was warm and tasted of the cider he’d been drinking earlier. His tongue was strong as it fought with Marco’s own and he wondered how the muscle would feel against his skin elsewhere.

            The thought made him groan and break away. Jean grabbed the front of Marco’s black jacket roughly and yanked him flush against his chest, pressing wet and slightly swollen lips against his neck. In response, Marco pushed Jean backwards to lie flat on the bed and braced himself above on his hands and knees. Beneath him, deprived of direct contact, Jean whimpered.

            Looking down at the man, Marco forced himself through monumental effort to pause. Jean was flush-faced and needy and obviously wiped out. Marco had no doubt that he could have taken the man body and soul right then and there with no resistance. But that wasn’t what he wanted. Jean was also drunk and Marco didn’t know how much he would remember come tomorrow, if anything at all. Claiming his victory now would only make it an empty one and it would destroy his chances at a real relationship in the long run.

            Summoning up every bit of control he had in him, Marco bent down and caught Jean’s lips once more. He stalled his partner’s hands before they could wrap him up and released the other man from his bodily cage, getting to his feet. Jean was already half asleep so Marco rearranged him to lie a bit more comfortably. His partner watched him with sad eyes.

            “See? Knew you wouldn’t like it,” he mumbled, causing Marco to grin.

            “What I don’t like is that we’re doing this under the influence, Jean,” Marco said into his ear. “If you remember just one thing tomorrow, remember that I very much look forward to trying this again when you’re in the right state of mind.”

            With that, he brushed the back of his knuckles down the side of Jean’s cheek and straightened. Marco left him and retreated to his room to take care of some unfinished business of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This is what happens when I'm between exams and have the whole weekend to myself. Some exciting things are going to happen in the next chapter. I hope my lovely readers are all still with me on this journey. :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stories are best told second hand, Marco gets a few gardening tips, Jean tries to play with the big boys and Marco pays a price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should've been studying, but I got distracted. This one's kind of long.
> 
> I love you all! Thank you soooo much for the comments! Yay! Now I feel terrible about this chapter.. ;>_> But, well ... I regret nothing!

            “No, harder. Longer strokes. Good, make sure it’s wet and frothy. Now slide underneath. You’re not going far enough in! Haven’t you ever done this before? I thought you said you’d spent your time with a gaggle of lusty maids.”

            Levi threw up his hands in exasperation as he tutored Jean in the finer arts of cleaning a spill from one of the arm chairs in the living room of the apartment house. Jean was currently attempting to scrub beer out of the cushion with a bucket of some homemade chemical mixture that his boss had put together. The angry little bastard was outfitted in full cleaning gear complete with dusting wand and had roped everyone he could catch the morning after the party into the cleanup effort.

            That list currently included -- in addition to himself and a grumpy Heichou – Mikasa, Annie, and Bertholdt. Jean had expected Eren to be there slaving away but the kid wasn’t even in his own room, let alone anywhere in the building. Remembering the two of them as they had looked last night, he didn’t want to ask why the brat was missing. While the four of them worked on clearing the aftermath of the festivities, the other cleaning slaves related stories of the night’s events to Jean.

            According to Annie, the mess Jean was currently scrubbing away at had occurred when Ymir, droopy eyed and intoxicated, decided to take her evening activities elsewhere. Christa had been in mid-sentence when Ymir stood up, told her to say good night, and flung the smaller woman over her shoulder. The two of them left that way and hadn’t been seen since.

            After that, Mikasa related the story of how Armin had tried to participate in the drinking game Connie cooked up but Erwin and Mike started taking turns drinking for him because he was toasted after only two bottles.

            “Armin was so bad at playing,” she said in monotone, “that I think they each had about eight drinks between them. Mike was so gone by the end of the game that he was wandering around the room sniffing everyone and grinning like an idiot.”

           “Though, I don’t think anyone noticed how drunk Erwin was,” Bertholdt added. “He can hold his alcohol better than anyone else I know except Heichou.” Mikasa was listening with interest. She obviously hadn’t noticed it herself.

           “I only figured it out when I realized that Erwin had a hand up the back of Armin’s shirt. I don’t think it was visible from anywhere else in the room.”

           “I’m surprised you spotted that with all the making out going on between you and Reiner,” Annie said, devoid of inflection. Bertholdt turned bright red and went back to wiping down the coffee table.

           “It … it wasn’t that much,” he mumbled in feeble defense. “Oh, by the way,” he said as he turned to Jean conversationally, “you were voted best costume. It’s a shame you disappeared so early. Connie said you had a good reason so I guess that means you two are getting along alright. I’m glad to hear it, Marco’s a good guy.”

           Jean had stopped cleaning to stare at the room blankly. They were all looking at him expectantly, even Levi. Jean had no idea what they were referring to. The last thing he remembered with any real clarity was chugging his beer as Marco left the room and then grabbing a new one before chasing after him. The rest of it was a muddled blur of abstract pictures, dissociated emotions, and pieces of conversations that didn’t make any sense without context. He searched his mind in an attempt to recall something, anything, about how he had gotten from the living room to his bed.

_“-don’t want it to be like-“_

_Anger and embarrassment, a dark room, he was cold and afraid._

_“-make that clear-“_

_Burning shame, a figure standing in the darkness._

_“-doesn’t wanna be close-“_

_Resentment now, a flash of his own trembling hands, the sting of tears._

_“-so afraid of-“_

_Sadness, fingers on his chin, brown eyes that burned his soul._

_“-kissing … can’t let that-“_

_Confusion, warmth, then bitter sadness._

_“-remember just one … remember that I-“_

_Regret._

           His head throbbed violently and he shook it to chase the memories away. Even as he tried to recall the fragments they would shatter like shards of glass, never to be reassembled again.

           “Sorry, I don’t remember anything after I left,” he growled in frustration. The others wore a mixture of disappointment and sympathy. “You can tell Connie he’s a dick, though,” he shot over his shoulder as he returned to patting the cushion with a rag. “Dunno why but I have a feeling I owe him an ass kicking.”

+++++++++++

            He hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. Marco silently berated himself for his cowardice as he sat on the concrete steps just outside the rear door of the gym. The sun was sinking low on the horizon off to his right, hidden behind lumps of dirty grey clouds. Off in the distance thunder rumbled lethargically like the dying moan of some great animal in its final moments. It mirrored his dark mood perfectly as he stared at the dirt with his elbows on his knees, head hanging clutched in his hands and fingers twisted painfully in his dark hair.

            Somewhere on the other side of the door, Jean was probably getting dressed after rinsing off in the showers. Marco imagined he could hear the other man cursing at one thing or another, blissfully unaware of his partner’s ragged state only a handful of steps away. He would probably pack up and head back to his room for the night, none the wiser for the havoc he was unknowingly wreaking. _And it’s all my fault_ , Marco thought as he heaved a great sigh.

            The two of them had discussed the night’s previous activities less than half an hour ago, after their awkward practice session had come to a reluctant end. Marco had been burning with the need to know how much Jean recalled from that night but he had been too afraid to ask for fear of knowing the answer. He’d been right to fear it. Jean had finally brought it up when they were at their lockers, his demeanor hesitant and wary as he asked Marco about it. When Marco returned with a query about what all he remembered, the blank look he’d received in return had impaled him with despair.

            _It’s gone, all of it_ , he thought at the time. _The discussion, the confession, the kiss, every inch of progress is gone._ Seeing the panic bubbling up in Jean’s eyes as he waited for the other man to speak destroyed Marco’s courage. He couldn’t bring himself to reveal the truth if it meant hurting the person he loved. _Yes, I love him. I’ve known that for what feels like forever._ And Marco had felt that if he had torn away the carefully layered shell that Jean had made to protect his true feelings at that moment, it would have hurt him much too deeply.

            Shaking with frustration, Marco stood and walked the short distance out to the edge of the explosives field with his hands shoved into his pockets. He passed the wooden sign unseeing as his eyes moved from dip to dip. Each dusty pock mark seemed to speak to the hole in his heart, drawing out the myriad of ‘what if’s and ‘should have’s that haunted his thoughts. Before long, his feet found the one Jean had made bigger with his explosive mishap a while back. Marco supposed that the incident with the grenade had been the first time he had known, _really_ known, that he loved Jean to the very core of his being. The thought of losing the man forever terrified him, clutching his heart and throat in an icy vice, stealing the very air from his lungs.

_I guess that’s why I’m so afraid of pushing him. I don’t want to send him over the edge and see him fly away._ Marco nudged a small rock over the edge of the pit and watched it tumble down the slope to land almost in the center. It seemed to stare back up at him mockingly as a testament to his greatest fear. He supposed that he deserved the mockery for having gone to such extremes in order to get what he wanted. He had allowed himself to take advantage of Jean’s altered state, something a trusted friend should never do, and it had come around to bite him in the ass. _This is what I get for cheating_ , he mused. Knowing the final move in a chess game does no good when the other player resets the board before you can make it.

           He had no idea what to do about it now, either. He had gained a precious bit of knowledge and was now powerless to act on it. Maybe it could have been salvaged if he’d been honest with his partner about what had happened. Maybe, somehow, Jean would have understood why Marco had used his drunkenness the way he had and eventually learned to trust him again. But now, thanks to his lapse in judgment on the spur of the moment, the chance was gone. What could he say now? _“Yeah, so, I forgot to mention that we made out and you confessed your undying love for me. Why? Because I’m an asshole who got you drunk just so you’d talk. But I didn’t want to hurt your feelings even though you’ll never be able to trust me again so we’re still friends, right?”_ No way in hell he’d survive the aftermath of that conversation.

           Marco heaved another great sigh and lifted his head to watch the clouds moving swiftly towards the east. Those grey streaks were nearly overhead now and the thunder growled with greater force. Tonight would be a stormy one, he thought absently. Fitting considering the circumstances. An image of Jean’s blank eyes from earlier flitted into his mind as he watched those dark puffy streaks crawl by overhead. Suddenly it was funny. Marco snorted a laugh once, twice, and then it came over him like madness. Like the growing rumble in the distance. He started to laugh, loud and long into the darkening evening, great peals of it echoing out across the field in front of him and cramping his stomach muscles painfully.

           When it began to die down, he told himself that the moisture streaming down his cheeks were from his crazed mirth and not from the hollow ache in his chest. He wiped at them with the palms of his hands, his laughter now reduced to a sad gurgle of chuckles. When the voice came to his ears from behind him, he jumped and hiccupped a strange sort of gasping cry. For a moment he was horrified by the thought that Jean might have discovered him but he forced himself to calm down when he realized that the voice had been female.

           “Um, Marco,” Christa repeated tentatively, “a-are you okay?”

           Marco didn’t turn around. He didn’t really mind that Christa had found him but he was afraid of what she might see on his face if he showed himself after that fit just then. He heard her light steps approach and stop one pace behind him and to his right. Another rumble of thunder rolled along and he waited for it to die down before speaking.

           “I’ll be okay,” he said, knowing she would pick up on his choice of words.

           “Is it … about Jean?”

           “Yeah,” he said with a small sad smile on his lips.

           “Ymir told me what she heard from Annie this morning,” she offered. “I won’t ask what happened last night between you two but it seems like it was something big. To hear that he just forgot all of it …” She trailed off and the sympathy in her words burned like a hot coal. “I can’t imagine what it feels like to …” she couldn’t finish that sentence.

           Marco felt he was composed enough to turn to her now and so he did. The tiny blonde was standing near him with her hands clasped loosely behind her and her face turned up to the sky just as his had been. She looked back at him and met his sad little smile with a gentle one of her own. It broke him. The tears came full and unbidden now even as he smiled through them and stared at his feet.

           “I messed up,” he groaned with a choking sob, “there’s so much I should have done and said differently. But I did it all wrong. What am I supposed to do now? If he finds out, he’ll never look at me the same way again, Christa.”

           She ‘hmm’ed a little and looked back up at the sky. For a moment Marco was worried that she wouldn’t have anything more to say to him.

           “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “he’s a lot like Ymir.”

           “Huh?” His confusion made her smile in embarrassment.

            “I mean, when she was coming to terms with things back then it was hard for her too,” she clarified. “They’re both like,” she said and paused as she tapped her bottom lip with one finger, searching for the right words, “a cactus.”

            “A … cactus,” Marco deadpanned.

            “Yeah! Sort of hard and prickly on the outside but gooey on the inside,” she said with a bright gleam in her eyes at her stroke of brilliance. “You can’t really touch them the way you can with other plants and if you water them too much they start to suffer. They’re a lot more delicate than they look. But, if you’re really patient and careful, you can nurture them until they flower. Sometimes they take a long time to flower, but when they do it’s really beautiful.” Her smile had grown into a warm glow as the sun dipped low enough to peak through a break in the clouds and Marco was reminded of why her call sign was Angel.

            “Sometimes, you get really frustrated and mess up,” she continued, “and you worry that maybe this time your cactus will die because you did something wrong. But, it’ll be okay because you’re there to fix it and you’ll learn from your mistake. And when it comes around and you see that fragile little flower sitting there, it makes it all worth it knowing that something so beautiful is meant just for you.”

           Christa closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The air was filled with the heavy scent of the coming rain. Then she looked at him directly and blushed cutely at the awed expression he was wearing.

           “Marco, you did mess up,” she accused with such an innocent tone that the words had no sting, “but you love your cactus. That much is pretty obvious. And you’re not the kind of guy that would force things to happen. Just be patient and keep taking care of him. Eventually, he’ll come around and bloom just for you.”

           “Christa,” spoke another female voice from the open doorway behind them, “time to go.”

           They turned to see Ymir leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and a soft, solemn expression on her face, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. It was strange to see the anger gone from her features. Looking at her, Marco suddenly imagined her with green prickly skin and a small white flower on the top of her head. He snorted a giggle, the first honest laugh he’d had all day. Christa beamed a smile at him.

           “There it is,” she teased, “The Marco we all know and love is back.”

           She left his side then as he blushed furiously and met Ymir in the doorway. As she moved inside, the first fat drops of rain began to patter into the dust around Marco. Ymir moved to follow her inside but paused to toss him a glance over her shoulder.

           “She’s right, you know,” she said casually, “It’s not the end of the world. He’ll come around. I did.”

           He thought he caught a faint hint of red on her freckled cheeks but she swung around and tromped after her smaller partner too quickly for him to be sure in the growing dark of the evening. The rain started to fall heavily around him and he raised his face to the sky to let the drops strike his skin and wash away the tear tracks. As corny as Christa’s metaphor had been, it had still worked its magic on him. Time and patience was what he needed now; time especially to work around this new setback.

           He wasn’t starting from scratch this time and he had one piece of valuable knowledge in his hands now, despite the underhanded means through which he had acquired it. He knew with certainty that Jean had feelings for him. He also knew that Jean currently had no idea that his feelings were returned and had gone so far as to misunderstand the entire situation, something he was swiftly becoming known for. All Marco had to do now was bide his time carefully and nurture those feelings. Eventually, when the time was right, he would confess his own feelings and Jean would open up for him like the prickly, angry, and secretly delicate flower that he was.

+++++++++++

            The next three weeks passed relatively uneventfully for Jean. After the cleanup following the party, he had confronted Marco about the night before. He had asked about what all he had said or done while he was drunk. Marco asked him if he had any memory of that night and when he confirmed that he remembered nothing substantial, his partner had given him a suspiciously sparse explanation. For a few moments prior to receiving it he had panicked, afraid that he had done something to the man that would cost him the trust they had carefully built up over their time together.

           According to Marco, they had been in the kitchen when Connie pulled one of his pranks and scared Jean with a mannequin in the hallway. Jean had been so afraid and so drunk that Marco thought it best to take him back to his bedroom to retire for the evening. They had discussed some unimportant things then and Marco had put Jean into bed, only to go to sleep a few minutes after that as well. Jean knew Marco wasn’t telling him everything, but he could also tell that he wasn’t outright lying either, so he let it go. If having his phobia and lack of alcohol tolerance revealed was all he had to suffer, it was a paltry price to pay compared to what could have occurred.

           Marco’s attitude towards him hadn’t really changed so Jean was fairly certain that he hadn’t given anything about his biggest secret away. Marco had been a little tense for a day or so afterwards but that had dissipated quickly enough not to cause Jean any worry. After things settled post-party, a refreshing lack of strain formed between them. Jean attributed it to the fact that the party had given him a much needed chance to relax and have a little fun for a while. He still had a hard time coping with the urges he felt whenever he got too close to his partner but Marco seemed a bit less inclined to end up in compromising situations with him. If he could keep things this easy between them, maybe his burning need for the other man would diminish and they could get on with life. _Not likely but hey, a guy can hope, right?_

           Now, in the third week of his third month of training, he was in the gym working on disarming a plastic knife wielding Marco when the proverbial shit hit the fan. With a loud bang that shuddered the glass door, Eren burst into the room followed by Levi. Eren had a crazed gleam in his eyes that gave Jean the impression of a rabid predator on the hunt for prey. He stepped aside to allow Levi to stride into the center of the room. Everyone in the room stilled and waited for him to speak.

           “We’ve just confirmed the location of a Titan safehouse on the outer edge of Trost County. Erwin is calling for everyone, and I do mean _everyone_ ,” he said with a glance to Marco, “to gear up and prepare to move out. Be ready in one hour. We’ll be taking both vans. Now get moving.” Levi turned to address Marco directly after the other Corps members in the room began filing out.

           “We need everyone for this mission, so I’ll have to ask you to suit up as well,” he said.

           “Yes, sir,” Marco saluted him and headed for the exit. When Jean attempted to follow, Levi held up a hand to stop him.

           “Not you,” he said firmly.

           “What? Why the hell not?! I’m not letting Marco go alone,” he shouted, ignoring Levi’s narrowed eyes.

           “Jean, it’s okay,” Marco pleaded in an attempt to placate him, “I’ll be back soon.”

           “No, it’s not fucking okay! How many goddamn times have you talked about how important partners are to each other? And now you’re telling me to sit on my ass while mine goes off on some mission with no guarantee he’ll make it back?” Jean was furious now. He didn’t want to admit that he was jealous of Marco’s position as a full Corps member.

           “Partners?” Levi snarled quietly. The word cut through Jean like a razor blade. “You think you have a right to proclaim the value of your ‘partnership’ with one of my best men when neither of you idiots can even come to terms with _yourselves_ about your feelings for each other?”

           Jean flinched and looked at his feet while Marco was rubbing the back of his head. His commander’s mention of feelings had shut him up but he was sure the man couldn’t be referring to anything beyond their friendship, could he? There’s no way he could have known about the reality that curled hidden in Jean’s heart. He couldn’t understand what the problem was; they were getting along just fine now. He completely missed the guilty glances Marco was shooting him.

           “You can stand here all day and bitch about how unfair it is that your buddy gets to go play while you have to stay home, but that won’t convince me that the two of you deserve to be trusted as a team.” At this, it was Marco’s turn to flinch. “And I don’t give a fuck about how well your training has been going. What matters to me is whether or not you two jackasses can get it together long enough not to get yourselves or anyone else killed out there.”

           “So, tell me, _Jean Kirschtein_. Tell me why I should let a pompous amateur brat who can barely keep his mouth shut go stomping around like a baby elephant on our most important mission to date, only to tie down one of my valuable assets because he’ll be too busy babysitting to do anything useful.”

           Levi bored a hole through Jean’s skull as he waited for his response. His commander had weighed and comprehended the situation with startling accuracy. Jean wasn’t stupid enough to think he would be a great asset on a big mission in his current state. If anything, he would slow his partner down both physically and mentally. He knew that. He knew it, but the thought of Marco fighting alone in the midst of a sea of armed brutes rankled him something fierce.

           It was true that he didn’t want to get left behind, but he didn’t want Marco to get hurt while he wasn’t there to back him up either. Maybe he could actually be of some use to his partner and the others, even if he wasn’t going to be in the middle of the action. There must be something he could do. He had to be there, one way or another, to show Marco that he could be relied upon. _I can be there for you, just as you are for me._ Jean steeled himself and gave his argument.

           “Yeah, fine. You’re right, Heichou. I’m a pompous amateur brat. But I’m _Marco’s_ pompous amateur brat, and if he’s as good as you say he is then you should already know that he isn’t stupid enough to get tied down by someone like me. I can’t promise I won’t get in the way if you let me tag along, but I’m good enough to do _something_ useful without getting anyone killed. No matter what happens, I promise you won’t regret giving me a chance. Let me show you how good we can be together.”

           Jean met Levi’s stare and didn’t look away as the other man studied him. Behind the smaller man, unnoticed by its recipient, Marco was staring wide eyed at Jean in sudden awe. Jean had calmed down quite a bit during his commander’s rant and he wasn’t about to let Levi underestimate his worth just because the smaller guy didn’t like him. He was already preparing another argument when Levi finally spoke.

           “Marco, do you trust him?” Behind him, Marco straightened and didn’t hesitate to give his answer.

           “With my life, sir.”

           “Very well. He goes too,” Levi said and without another word he spun on his heel and walked out.

\---------------

            “Valkyrie, Dancer, what are your positions?”

            The van Jean was in was cramped and hot. It was half full of video and radio equipment stacked along one wall. He sat on one end of the long metal bench attached to the opposite wall. Marco sat next to him monitoring a row of screens that showed the video feeds from the earpieces the Corps members wore. Levi was on his other side just behind the driver’s cab hunched over a thin microphone on a long stand that had a switch laden panel next to it.

            “This is Dancer,” came Mikasa’s voice over the radio, “we’re in position near the east entrance. No activity so far.”

           Her reply came clearly over the identical earpieces Jean and Marco were wearing. Every member participating in the mission had been given one to wear for the purpose of communication. They were simple in design and sleek enough not to get in the way with their bulk or interfere with movement and perception. The cameras installed inside them afforded the command unit a view of what each team was engaged in. Mikasa’s video feed showed a view of a wide pair of closed garage doors. The tiny windows near their tops were dark.

           “Tank, Gentle Giant, report in.”

           “No movement on the west side either,” Reiner’s deep voice replied. “You sure this is the place?”

           “Our source is reliable. We have no reason to doubt –“

           “They’re in there,” Eren’s voice cut in over the radio, causing Levi to scowl. “I can smell those bastards from a mile away. We’re wasting time out here. We should move in and –“

           “Wolf, hold your goddamn tongue or I’ll cut it out,” Levi snapped into the microphone, silencing him. “No one makes a move until we have confirmed activity.”

           “Ehh, Wolf has a point,” came Ymir’s bored reply. Christa’s feed showed her leaning against a wall in an ally across the street from the warehouse they were currently staking out. “For all we know, they’re out to lunch stuffing their fat faces. If we stand around all day waiting, we’ll never get the jump on ‘em.”

           “Why don’t you go ring the doorbell and tell them you’re a door-to-door panty saleswoman, Beast” that was Annie’s voice in complete seriousness. Ymir’s wordless snarl and someone’s snort of laughter caused the audio feed to crackle.

           “That’s enough, both of you,” Levi broke in, “Wolf, you’re too close. What the fuck are you doing?”

           Eren’s video feed showed a close-up view of a single metal side door. He was edging closer to the dirty window in the upper half so that he could peek inside. Levi looked like he was about ready to chew through a steel plate. He watched as Eren poked his head above the edge of the window. Inside, the building was pitch black except for the dim pools of light from the windows in the pairs of garage doors at either end and the two opposite side doors. Dim formless outlines were visible near the beams of light but no detail could be made out through the image on the screen.

           Jean heard Eren grunt in annoyance into the radio and as he was about to duck back down, there was a bright flash from inside the building and a loud burst of static came over the radio briefly before it went silent. All of the video feeds from everyone outside of the van turned into static snow and Levi cursed. Outside in the direction of the building, Jean could hear frantic shouts and the rattle of gunshots from several semi-automatic weapons.

           “Fuck!” Levi snarled, pounding his fist on the counter in front of him, “Teams, report! … They destroyed our eyes and ears,” he said as he turned grimly to Marco. “These bastards are well informed, as always. The command unit is useless. I’m heading in, you’re with me. Prince, you stay here and do as I tell you.”

           Jean blanched at the name. _Prince? Seriously?_

           “Got it,” he said confidently.

           Marco and Levi checked the pairs of .9 mm pistols holstered at their sides. Both of them wore what Jean had discovered was the uniform for field missions among the Corps. It consisted of form fitting black trousers, a white cotton button down shirt, black combat boots, and a complicated harness of nylon straps that crossed over the upper body and wrapped around the thighs. With the exception of Marco’s shirt, all of the other Corps members had an emblem on either shoulder depicting a green shield with two wings crossing each other, one white over one black.

           The harness they each wore provided support for holding the various weapons each member kept on their person. The standard weapons were the pair of pistols holstered at waist level on either side, one large combat knife sheathed at the right thigh, a row of six cylindrical miniature grenades on the left thigh, and a belt carrying spare clips that wrapped diagonally over the chest from left shoulder to right hip. Some members kept additional weapons of their own choosing attached at other points. Marco had a slender switchblade in a worn leather case attached to his left thigh next to his grenades. The weapon had a sentimental look to it.

           After readying themselves, Marco and Levi exited the van by the rear doors and ran in the direction of the warehouse. Jean could still hear shots in the distance and the sounds were growing louder over the radio from the two remaining feeds. Jean watched as Levi walked swiftly around one side of the building while Marco jogged around the other. He tried to follow both feeds but found his eyes drawn to Levi’s as the man moved swiftly through the chaos. He could have sworn at one point he heard a whizzing sound loud over the radio and thought he saw a flash of metal in Levi’s picture but the man didn’t even appear to flinch.

           Levi came around the corner of the building without breaking his stride and was faced with a confusing scene. He had drawn both of his pistols and he was coming up on what looked like a standoff between Reiner and Bertholdt across the street, and a small group of thuggish men with machine guns near the warehouse. The thugs were peppering the corner of a brick building with bullet holes while Reiner and Bertholdt took occasional shots at them from around the corner. Levi was approaching from behind the thugs and he raised his pistols calmly, placing one shot in each man’s head in rapid succession. Jean didn’t even have time to blink before the men were down, his jaw hanging slack at the display.

           “Coms are down,” Levi was saying to the other two once they were clear of danger and had emerged from cover. “We’re going to regroup at the command unit and reassess the situation. Where’s Wolf?”

           The other two said something that Jean couldn’t make out clearly from Levi’s feed. Bertholdt was pointing towards the side door that sat open nearby. He had a grim expression on his face.

           “That idiot,” Levi breathed, “Prince, I’m heading inside. I want you to keep an eye on Boy Next Door. I’m switching my earpiece off so don’t get into any trouble until I get back to the van. Understand?”

           “Yes, sir,” Jean responded and saw Levi’s feed go black.

           He switched his focus to Marco’s feed only to find that he had gotten pinned down along with Ymir and Christa in the alley they were waiting in earlier. His partner was kneeling down to examine a wound on Ymir’s thigh that was bleeding profusely. Christa was pressing a white bunch of cloth against it while Ymir was saying something to Marco, squinting through the pain. He saw Ymir mouth the words “Annie” and “down” before she point in the direction of the side door on the opposite side of the building from the one Levi had entered.

           “Did you hear that, Prince?” Marco was saying to him through the radio. Jean groaned silently when he used that damn name again. _It’s gonna stick after this, I just know it._

           “No, please repeat it, Mar- er, Boy Next Door.”

           “Beast and Angel are reporting that Dancer went charging inside after Wolf. Valkyrie tried to follow but it looked like she got shot down just inside the door. They don’t think she’s dead but she could be in serious trouble. They have no idea what happened to Dancer.”

           “Got it. Heichou went in a few minutes ago but his video feed is off and I can’t contact him over the radio. He said that everyone’s supposed to regroup at the command unit.”

           “Right, I’ll tell these two before I move on,” Marco said. He relayed the message to Ymir and Christa, then moved closer to the end of the ally. Everything had gone quiet beyond that point. Whoever had been shooting at them had either been taken out or retreated inside.

           “Marco, what the hell are you planning to do?”

           “Jean,” he chided softly, “you aren’t supposed to use my real name,” never mind the fact that Marco had just done the same thing. He could almost feel his partner’s smile.

           “To hell with that, just answer the damn question.”

           “I can’t leave without checking on the other two,” he said softly. “Valkyrie could be in big trouble. If she’s hurt too badly, I need to get her out. I think most of the fighting is going on further inside now so I should be okay.”

           Jean wasn’t reassured at all. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end as he watched Marco cross the street with long, efficient strides and slide up to the wall beside the open door. Marco peered carefully around the door frame and into the gloom of the warehouse interior. Bullet holes had opened up a myriad of new beams of light to come streaming in, giving the massive space inside an eerie feel.

           The sounds of shouting and more gunfire drifted up from somewhere below and further inside. Jean guessed that there must be a large basement below the building where most of the gang’s manpower had been stationed. Marco, having determined that the immediate area was clear, slipped inside with his gun drawn and at the ready. Off to one side against a wall there was a stack of crates and Marco’s video feed centered on a pair of boots sticking out from behind them.

           Marco rounded the crates to find an unconscious Annie leaning against them with a bullet wound in her shoulder and a large blood stain running down the left side of her torso. She was still breathing but was unresponsive to Marco’s attempts to rouse her. A few feet away there were four large bodies lying crumpled on the concrete floor and one of her pistols was sitting on the ground near her right hand, clip spent. She certainly hadn’t gone down without a fight.

           “Prince, I have to get Valkyrie to safety,” Marco said into his earpiece, “but I can’t do it without backup. I need you to send someone to me as soon as you can.”

           Just as Marco made the request, the van’s rear doors opened and Reiner popped his head in. Jean covered the microphone of his own earpiece and caught him as he hopped out. There was no way he’d miss this opportunity.

           “Everyone’s supposed to meet back here,” he said to the big blonde, “Heichou’s feed got turned off on purpose. If he gets back before I do, just say I went to take a dump or something.”

           “Wha –“

           He didn’t give Reiner and chance to reply. Instead, he ran straight for the side door that Marco was waiting just inside of. Everything outside of the van was entirely different. He felt very exposed as he darted along the walls of the building, keeping an eye open for possible hostiles all around him. He hadn’t actually been given any weapons, though he was wearing a uniform identical to Marco’s. Levi had ordered them confiscated as a method of forcefully keeping him inside the command unit and out from under foot.

           Once he reached the door, he mimicked Marco’s way of peeking inside and then dashed through and around the crates to find his partner wrapping a jagged strip of white cloth tightly around Annie’s shoulder by way of a makeshift bandage. The cloth strip had been torn from the bottom of Marco’s shirt and his stomach was exposed. Jean’s breath caught in his throat when his eyes found the speckled expanse of musculature. He felt as though it had been years since he’d last seen any of Marco’s skin. _God I miss that._

           “Jean! What are you doing here?!” Marco whispered fiercely when he spotted the other man. “You’re not armed and this is an unpredictable area. Come here!”

           Jean regained his presence of mind with a jolt and moved to kneel beside Marco. His partner pulled his second pistol from its holster and handed it over. He was already lifting Annie’s limp form into his arms.

           “This is way too dangerous for you,” he was saying, giving Jean an exasperated smile, “but I have to say I’m glad you came for me.”

           “Heh, no problem,” Jean said casually, trying to act cool. He checked the gun the same way he had seen Marco and Levi do so earlier, even though the weapon didn’t actually need it.

           “Since you’re here, you can watch my back while I get Valkyrie to the van. I think we’d better hurry. I don’t hear any fighting below so that means either Heichou tore things up down there, or we’re about to get rushed by some very angry Titans.”

           “I got it, man. Let’s go.”

           Marco hoisted himself to his feet and headed for the exit. Beside him, Jean held the weapon ready and watched for anyone that might be trying to sneak up on them from behind. As soon as they hit the daylight outside, Marco began to follow the walls of the warehouse back in the direction of the van. It was somewhat slow going since carrying another full grown person wasn’t an easy task, even for someone as physically fit as they were. They rounded the corner of the building and Jean, having been focused on whatever might be chasing them, backed into Marco as he came around. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that there were two men waiting for them. Both men held ridiculously oversized handguns pointed at them. Jean swiveled around and began to raise his own weapon when one of the men spoke.

           “Don’t try it, punk. We’re not here for you. Put that traitor bitch down and back off and we’ll let you pissants run home with your tails between your legs like the dogs you are,” the man growled.

           Marco slowly lowered Annie to the ground, to Jean’s surprise, but made no move to back away. In fact, he stepped over her carefully and put himself between her limp form and the two thugs, hands held up placatingly.

           “Huh. Looks like you didn’t hear me the first time. I said back the fuck away from her,” the same man said, raising his weapon a bit to aim it at Marco’s head.

           “Hmm, no I don’t think I will,” Marco smiled disarmingly at them, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there were two huge guns pointed at him.

            Jean had no idea what Marco was up to. Their two opponents didn’t seem like the types for negotiation. Jean didn’t want Marco to face them alone so he stepped over Annie and took a spot at his partner’s side. The quiet man grimaced and eyed Jean’s lowered pistol warily.

           “Gentlemen,” Marco said, “if this woman is really a traitor to you as well, then she’ll no doubt be doubly punished by our organization. We don’t knowingly house traitors among our ranks. If you like, we can discuss how to deal with this in a more civilized manner elsewhere.”

           The men looked completely thrown off. The sincerity in Marco’s tone and his complete lack of fear was confusing them more than his actual words. They glared suspiciously at him and took a step forward, pistols still trained on his head. Marco raised his hands higher and broadened his smile.

           “Hey now, I’m only trying to work something out here. You see, our commander just finished wiping out everyone in your base, as I’m sure you can tell by how quiet things are right now. We got word that this one,” he indicated Annie, “tried to shoot her own partner in the back during the raid. The only reason she’s still alive is because we intend to make her pay for her actions.” The men were hesitating now, eyeing Marco with sudden interest.

           “Yeah? Why the hell should we believe that? It looked to me like you were trying to rescue her worthless ass.”

           “Allow me to prove our intentions. I’m going to draw my gun now, please don’t shoot me.” Marco carefully drew his one remaining pistol and turned around, pointing it down at Annie’s still form. Jean began to seriously worry about what he intended to do but he knew Marco was working his way out of the situation so he played along, trusting his partner not to get them all killed. Marco took one shot with the gun so close to Annie’s head that a splinter of concrete drew a thin red line across her cheek. When he turned back to the two men, they were looking at him in an entirely different way.

           “Now, you see? I don’t have the authority to kill her since our boss wants the honor of taking her head himself, but I’m sure we can discuss compensation for your organization over a nice cold beer. What do you say?”

           Slowly, after thinking it over with what little brain power they seemed to have, the men lowered their guns and relaxed. Marco beamed at them and turned to Jean.

           “Excellent! Now, Prince, shall we continue on our way?” Marco met his eye and Jean understood his intentions at last. He grinned and turned to face the men in front of them.

           “Yeah, let’s blow this joint.”

           Realizing they’d been played, the two thugs tried to raise their guns but Marco and Jean were faster. In unison they planted shots directly in the chests of their victims, watching the men crumple to the ground. Jean turned triumphantly to Marco to praise his display of brilliance only the find the man wearing a sad expression as he stared down at the fallen men.

           “Oi, Marco, what –“

           A shot rang out from some distance behind them and Marco jerked, eyes going wide. Jean spun around to shoot back but as he looked for the source, there was no one to be seen. Turning back to his partner, he watched in horror as a red splotch bloomed in the middle of his stomach. Looking down at it in confusion Marco fell to his knees and Jean dropped with him, cradling the other man in his arms. The shock on his partner’s freckled face wrenched his gut, the icy grip of fear constricting his chest painfully.

           “Shit, don’t do this,” Jean stammered. “Boy Next Door is down! Fuck, someone get here fast!” He screamed frantically into his earpiece. Marco’s eyes were growing unfocused as he looked up into Jean’s.

           “Sorry … Jean,” he said weakly, “guess I messed up again. Couldn’t … protect you.” Marco coughed a laugh and went limp in Jean’s arms.

           “No, it’s me. I was the one who was supposed to protect you dammit.” Jean was crying openly, tears streaking his cheeks and dripping onto Marco’s face. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me, Marco. I’m not finished with you, asshole! Marco? Marco!”

           In his arms, Marco lay very still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, I know y'all hate me now, but it gets better! I promise! ... No, wait, put that chair down. ... Not the face, not the face! I'm sorry, please forgive meeeeeeee! ;_;
> 
> (Seriously though, we still have a long way to go but it'll be worth the ride. Trust me.)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco meets an old friend, Erwin makes a visit, Jean takes up the torch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty short and I'm already working on the next one so I'll probably have another one up tomorrow afternoon.
> 
> I give you all my love and devotion for the comments and kudos your gracious hearts have chosen to bestow upon this work! <3 <3 <3

            _A gravel path stretched out before him winding through the trees. A warm breeze met his face and sunlight filtered down through the leaves above to dapple the grassy forest floor. Birds twittered in the branches and motes of dust glittered in the beams of light as he passed them by. It was peaceful and he felt like it was familiar to him. It seemed as though he had walked this path before a great number of times. Though he left no footprints, each step reverberated in his distant memory as the soothing chords of an old sweet melody that had been sung over and over again. This was an old place, one that knew him well even if he had no immediate recollection of it. Shadows of the past flitted formlessly in the distance between the gnarled pillars of bark. Two small forms, running recklessly like young wild animals, chased each other at the edges of his vision but he couldn’t turn his head to look at them. He thought he heard their laughter, imagined he could see them reaching for each other’s hands, but he could only let the shadows pass and look ahead as the path drew him onward._

_Eventually the path opened onto an enormous rolling field. High clouds sailed fast overhead as thin sheets of cotton blown by a strong eastward wind. There was no sun overhead here but this open world was full of light so that he had to shield his eyes. The brightness filled every part of him, embraced him in the arms of welcoming comfort. Beneath his feet, that old stretch of gravel wound endlessly onward towards what he was sure must be the end of everything, though he did not feel afraid of it. The grass beside the path was expertly kempt and as he walked, there became rows of rounded stone slabs and wooden posts rising from the ground. Some were blank while others had writing on them either in legible lettering or in confusing scripts that he didn’t recognize. Some were in languages that he recognized but couldn’t read. Those he could read had only dates and a name. It was his name on every single one._

_He finally stopped when the path ended at the edge of a great cliff. Below it spread the vast expanse of some great nameless sea, its blue and green and grey colors glistening all the way to the horizon. He inhaled and his lungs were filled with the tang of salt spray brought up the sheer face of the cliff by a strong breeze. It was a primitive and vital smell, the smell of birth and life and the beginning of time. In front of him, there was a man in a formal black tuxedo suit standing over a large rectangular hole in the ground only a few feet from the edge. Inside was a closed cherry wood coffin. He came up next to the man, brushing his fingers in the lighter hazelnut locks on the upper part of his head and running them down through the shorter dark strands below. But Jean didn’t look at him as they now stood side by side over the grave. In Jean’s hand there was a single rose and he wore a look of serenity that he had never once seen gracing the man’s sharp features. As they stood together in the warm wind from the ocean below, Jean spoke._

_“You came. Didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon.”_

_“I don’t understand. Where is this place?”_

_“It’s where we first met. Where we wait for each other. It’s the beginning and the end of this whole messed up affair.”_

_“We met … here? How? Didn’t we meet for the first time when you came to the company?”_

_“Ah, yeah. This time we did.” At his confused look, Jean sighed and looked up at the clear sky. “Don’t worry about it. Just glad I got to see you again, even if it isn’t for very long this time.”_

_He watched Jean’s face for a while in companionable silence and then looked down at the coffin._

_“Is this my –“ he choked up and was unable to finish._

_“Yup,” Jean said and at the horrified look he gave his companion Jean chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Relax, man. You still have a long way to go. I’ll keep your seat warm for you.”_

_“I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to be apart from you.”_

_“You never do, man. You’ve been way too damn obsessed from the beginning. I guess it works, though. You’re always the one to make the push. If I wasn’t such a coward …” Jean trailed off. After a bit of reflection, he turned and handed to rose to his friend._

_“’Bout time you went back.”_

_“Wait, Jean, come with me! I can’t leave you here alone like this. I –“ Jean held up a hand to silence him, grinning his usual half grin. He thought he could see the reflection of a distant bonfire in the man’s sad hazel eyes._

_“I’m not alone, Marco, and neither are you.”_

_Something was pulling him backwards. The field, the cliffs, the ocean, all of them began to warp and blur. All of them except Jean and the momentary deep look of pain and sadness on his features._

_“Don’t worry, we’ll meet here again like always. Right now there’s a moron who needs you more than I do. If you get a chance, tell him not to be such a fuckin’ coward this time.”_

_“Jean, please wait. Jean!”_

_Everything was fading too quickly. The hand he reached out with seemed to stretch and stretch endlessly, never finding its destination. Jean had smiled at him and turned away again. As the scene faded to black, he thought he caught Jean whisper as he looked at the coffin near his feet._

_“At least he was with you this time.”_

 +++++++++++

            The hospital waiting room was loud and smelled off somehow. Erwin strode through the rows of chairs with waiting people in varying stages of non-critical triage and addressed the nurse seated at the front desk. He wielded his suave gentleman’s attitude in combination with a polite smile and his lady killer blues to deadly effect on the poor unsuspecting woman. She was instantly at attention, cheeks rosy and eyes wide.

            “I’m looking for a patient that was brought in yesterday in critical condition. I’m the owner of the company he works for and I need to check on him in order to take care of a few legal matters. His name is Marco Bodt,” he said, offering the nurse his business card. The woman hesitated and glanced sideways at the other nurses nearby as she accepted the card.

            “I-I’m sorry, sir. That patient was just released from surgery. He’s already been sent to the intensive care ward with another person who claimed to be his,” she hedged at the term, looking like she’d swallowed something distasteful, “his partner.”

            “That’s alright, young lady,” he said graciously and earned himself another blush. “If you can tell me what room he’s in, I’ll find my own way there.”

            “Uh, I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir. It’s family members and significant others only at this point in time. With your permission, we can contact you if there’s any change, Mister …” she inspected the business card in order to address him but when she read the name, her face went white. Erwin continued to smile, waiting for her to speak.

            “Room 302-A in the east wing, Mister Smith. I’ll inform the nurses that you’re on the way.”

            “You have my deepest gratitude,” he said, turning away and heading through the swinging double doors that opened into the rest of the hospital.

            He meandered through the halls with confidence gained only from years of familiarity. He had come here a great number of times in the past. This was the hospital that his former boss had spent his final months in after his supposed accident. It was where Erwin had been named his successor. It was where he had sworn over the cold, stiff hand of the man he looked up to as a father and a mentor that he would end the Titans and everything they stood for, no matter what the cost.

            Erwin rounded a corner into a hallway and strode up to the second door on the left labeled 302-A. The door was cracked and before he entered, he peeked through the opening to gauge the situation on the other side. There he spotted his newest family member, the Kirschtein boy, standing at the side of the lone bed in the room. On the bed, Marco was lying still and asleep with his bandaged torso exposed. There was an angry red blotch on the bandages in the middle of his stomach. Jean had the sleeping man’s hand in his grip and was staring unblinking at his freckled face. His eyes were hollow and red rimmed and his sharp features were set hard and angry. When Erwin entered the room, Jean didn’t look up to greet him or even acknowledge his presence. _It’s only been about three months and the boy is already this attached. I don’t see what Levi is so worried about._ He came around to Jean’s side and got a closer look at the boy lying in the bed. Marco’s vital signs were weak but steady and he was very pale, but aside from that he seemed to be in good shape. The doctors had done an excellent job of patching him up. He made a mental reminder to thank them personally for their services.

Erwin picked up the chart hanging from a hook at the foot of the bed and examined the notes on it. The wound had been a through-and-through shot to the midsection. It had pierced Marco’s organs, but stomach wounds killed slowly and he had been taken to the emergency room in time to stop the bleeding and repair the damage. If Jean hadn’t been with him, that might not have been the case. Erwin recognized the pattern of the bullet wound as one that had come from a long distance high-powered rifle. He wondered if the shot had really been meant for Marco, his eyes narrowing at the consideration. Jean was looking at him now with the full force of his anger. There was no recognition in his eyes and Erwin remembered that the two of them hadn’t actually met yet. Of course the Kirschtein boy wouldn’t know who he was.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jean was tense, as if he was ready to trounce Erwin to defend the man in the bed. Erwin instantly liked him.

“Just a concerned colleague,” he said in his deep, calming voice. Jean visibly relaxed and, upon determining that there was no immediate threat, he went back to ignoring the other visitor.

“Levi showed me the recording of what happened when he was shot,” Erwin began. “He complained about your recklessness during the entire mission and about the fact that you don’t care enough about your partner to avoid putting both of you in danger. He’s flirting with the idea of having you sent back home with your tail between your legs.” Erwin was talking in a light conversational tone but he could see Jean trembling with rage.

“I’m not going anywhere. You can tell that mean little bastard to go fuck himself. I’m not going to abandon the one person I care about, the _only_ person that matters, just because he doesn’t think I can handle the job,” Jean ground out between clenched teeth.

“Well, Levi made a few valid points,” he said and Jean whipped his head around to say something. Erwin cut him off. “However, I essentially said the same thing to him, only not in quite so colorful terms.” Jean halted, his fury gone.

“Jean, you and I haven’t met yet, but you should know that I have at least a small say in what your fate will be as a member of our family. It is true that you disobeyed a direct order to put yourself in danger. But, from what I saw of the recording, the two of you worked well together in a way I haven’t seen in a long time. As far as I’m concerned, if you hadn’t been there when this poor boy was shot, he probably wouldn’t still be with us.”

“Allow me to say this much. Each of the teams in the Corps have their problems. They’re not as perfect as you may have been lead to believe. The two of you have only been working together for three months and already I can see a chemistry between you that is practically unprecedented among our force. I’m impressed by it and I want to see how much further you two can go.”

Jean was ogling him open-mouthed and wide eyed. He stammered unintelligibly at the taller man next to him. Erwin gave him a smile and a pat on the back.

“Don’t worry, young Kirschtein. Your future among us is assured for now. I’ve given Levi orders to approve you for field training starting the first of next month on the condition that you’re restricted to a maximum of one visit here per week. I know it won’t be easy but you’ll have to carry on without your other half for a while. If you give it your best effort, I’m sure Marco will be pleased when he finally comes back to you.”

“Who … who the hell,” Jean said, still in a state of shock and awe.

“As I said, just a concerned colleague who is very invested in your future,” Erwin said and set the chart back on its hook. “I look forward to seeing you fly, Kirschtein. I have no doubt you’ll give us all a great show.”

With that, he left the two of them alone. As he wandered back through the halls of the hospital, he remembered the elder Kirchstein’s whispered words as he was leaving Erwin’s office so many months ago. _You underestimated him, old man. He is so much more valuable than you will ever know._

+++++++++++

The first day of Jean’s field observation training was about to begin. He rushed through the hallways of the hospital where Marco was recovering without missing a step. The memory of his first visit here led him through the confusing halls without fail and he soon found himself standing in front of the closed door to Marco’s room. He shifted from foot to foot before entering. _What if he’s awake? It’s still early and it’s only been a week, he might not want to see me right now. Ah fuck, just do it Jean!_

Gathering his courage and gripping his small gift tighter in his fist, he opened the door. Relief and disappointment flooded into him when he saw that Marco was, in fact, asleep. His vitals had grown notably stronger since the time he was first admitted and the nurses had told Jean that he would make a full recovery, albeit a slow one. He stepped up to the edge of the bed and placed his free hand over Marco’s on the sheets. He no longer cared whether or not Marco would pull away from the touch if he were conscious. Instead, almost in defiance of the thought, he threaded their fingers together. He placed his gift on the bedside table and leaned over to get close enough so that he could speak softly into Marco’s ear without any potential eavesdroppers listening in.

“I’m movin’ up, Marco. I got approved for field work so I’m heading out with the guys today. I know you’re totally jealous being stuck in here and all, but I swear to you I won’t screw up. I’ll make you proud, man. And when you get outa here, you and me’ll be a better team than any of those fools have ever seen.”

Marco’s face twitched as though he might actually have heard Jean’s words. He was too deep in a medically induced sleep to wake up and Jean was struck with the need to touch him for what must have been the millionth time since he’d first seen him lying there. He was certain that he could do almost anything to the man right now and not rouse him. Knowing this, Jean just couldn’t stop himself. He leaned just a little closer and placed his lips on Marco’s. The kiss was light, just a brief touch, but Jean had the distinct impression that he’d felt it before and the urge to make it deeper almost conquered him. Eventually, he backed away and grinned at the sleeping man.

“Gotta head out now. I’d ask you to wish me luck but I know you’ll be with me so I won’t need it. Just stay here and watch me, Marco. Watch me soar,” he said and fled the room. He hoped Marco would like the gift he’d left for him and not think it was creepy. He really had no idea what had possessed him to choose this particular one but something about it just felt right. On the end table, waiting to be discovered by its intended recipient, there lay a single red rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it a bad thing to make yourself cry while writing your own story? T_T


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean wears his Action Boy pants, the greatest of Christmas gifts, showers are fun part 4, Jean gets half a story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's the next chapter! Things are getting intense.

            “I see them. North end by the fountain. Tank, you’re closer than I am. Can you get in listening range without tipping them off?” Annie shifted her sitting position on the bench before standing up.

            “Negative, Valkyrie. These guys are good and they’re too out in the open. They’ll catch on if I act too interested.” There was a faint rustle to match the turning of the newspaper page Reiner was pretending to read.

            “This isn’t good,” Bertholdt mumbled worriedly as he spread wood chips around the base of the line of scraggly bushes he was supposedly tending, “the delivery boy isn’t here yet. If we can’t get close to them, we’re going to lose our chance.”

            “Geh,” Reiner spat as he glanced sideways, “They’re armed to the teeth too. Don’t know how the hell you stuff a gun that big in your pants and think no one’s going to notice.”

            “It just means we’ll have to be careful when we move in,” Mikasa said as she bent to pet another walker’s friendly dog on the way past.

            In the command unit, Jean was taking all of this in attentively and saying nothing. It was the middle of December now and this was his fourth field observation mission since the beginning of the month. It was also the first one he’d been trusted to monitor alone. His job during these missions was to observe the whole thing and learn as much as possible about the way the Corps and each of its teams functioned in the field. Until now, Levi had been with him in the van for every outing, though he didn’t always need to be. He was always hovering near Jean’s shoulder scrutinizing his behavior and asking him for insight into what he was seeing and hearing. During these missions Jean had come to learn that he had a strong instinct for judging a situation correctly, though he didn’t have the experience yet to determine the best course of action. Levi had developed a certain level of appreciation for this part of him, which was why he had agreed to let Jean handle this one on his own.

            The mission today was to recover a stolen item for one of the company’s private clients. He and the teams involved knew nothing of what it was other than it was extremely valuable and very small. Mikasa and Annie had been tracking the thief’s movements for almost a week but it had been impossible to corner him. The man was a slippery little eel, fitting since the person he had stolen from was renowned for having the best security in the city. They had finally managed to discover a time, date, and location for when the goods would be handed off to the organization that had hired the thief. The bad part about that was that the location was a very public park full of innocent people and the buyers in question were from the company’s nemesis, the mob organization known as the Titans. The five brutish men waiting by the fountain were clearly members of it and would have no qualms about shooting everyone and everything if they felt their operation was threatened.

            Jean studied what he could see of the group of men through the video feeds of the others. Something about them made the hairs of the back of his neck tingle and not because he knew they were dangerous. This was something else. A suspicion was gradually dawning on him the more he thought about the number of men there was and the number of Corps members they had in the field right now. Knowing that the item they were trying to recover was small made that suspicion grow even more. He squinted his eyes and went over several scenarios in his head about what the teams could do when the delivery boy finally showed up and how they could recover it if things went badly. They had been ordered to apprehend the thief before he met his clients if possible, but doing so would be difficult. However, moving in while the targets were out in the open would be a huge mistake as well. The others knew this. Something warned Jean that if they waited for the Titans to move elsewhere it would be too late, and so he considered his options.

            Normally, being here for observation meant that he was forbidden from interfering with the mission or participating in it. He had been ordered not to carry weapons and wasn’t dressed in civilian clothes so exposing himself would put the teams and the operation at risk. But Jean had a feeling that he was about to have to take that risk. A part of him didn’t like the idea since it would be extremely dangerous for him to step in, unarmed and alone as he was. But another part of him gurgled with excitement at the thought of having a chance to do something to contribute. He curled his hands into fists to keep from fidgeting as he watched everything play out. In Annie’s feed he caught the flash of an unassuming hooded man that couldn’t have been more than his own age. The man had a small square bandage over one cheekbone and walked with a slight limp. Something about him tickled his mind.

            “Valkyrie, Dancer, didn’t you guys mention that the thief almost got hit by one of his own traps when you tried to catch him three days ago,” he asked into the microphone in front of him.

            “Yes,” Mikasa answered with mild annoyance, “but what does that –“

            “Shit,” Annie spat softly and spun around, having caught on to what he was saying, but the man was already out of sight. “The delivery boy is on his way. I missed him,” she ground out in frustration.

            “He’s wearing a dark red hoodie and has a limp,” Jean filled in over the radio.

            “I’ve got him,” Reiner said, “he’s coming over to the other guys now but I can’t get close. They’ve got him surrounded. I can’t see what’s going on.”

            Jean watched Reiner’s feed closely. Just as he’d said, the group of men had surrounded the thief and they were blocking any clear view of what was happening inside the circle. It almost seemed like they were doing it on purpose. Then it hit him. _They know we’re here. They’re planning to split up._ Just as the thought occurred to him, the group of men broke apart and separated, each one moving swiftly in a different direction. As if on cue, all four Corps members outside cursed. Jean had to act quickly.

            “Guys, don’t move in yet, they know we’re here,” he barked urgently. “They had a plan for this. I need each one of you to take one of them. Stay on them until you can get to a safe place and take ‘em out.”

            The other members replied in the affirmative and split up silently to follow one of the Titan men. Technically, Jean wasn’t supposed to be giving orders but he had considered this as one of the possibilities and had come up with a mental plan of action. Naturally, with his own team being short one man, he would have to jump in. Once the others had chosen their targets, he jumped out of the van and headed stealthily towards the area where the fifth one had been last seen. It wasn’t difficult to spot the man. His thuggish look made him stand out like a sore thumb. However, it was also easy to see that he was just as well armed as the others.

            Jean slid up next to a large tree unnoticed as the man moved out of the park and into the surrounding city streets. He did his best not to attract attention while he waded through the passersby and followed at what he hoped was a safe distance. People gave him strange looks and avoided getting close to him, probably due to the focused scowl he was wearing. Half a block ahead of him, his target turned and ducked into a small family owned restaurant. There was a small ally running along the side that met another larger ally running behind the buildings through the center of the block. He turned down the side ally and jogged to the other end, the fear of losing his target making him frantic.

            He stopped at the exit just before turning the corner into view of the restaurant’s rear, straining his ears. There was only silence. Either the man hadn’t come through to the back door yet or he had been too fast and was already gone. Jean mentally grimaced and gathered his courage, preparing to step out. He wished he had taken a weapon with him but he had been in too much of a hurry to think of it at the time. If he had bothered to do so, however, he probably would have lost the target. _If I haven’t lost him anyways_ , he thought angrily. His muscles tensed and he was just beginning to surge forward when something stopped him. It felt like someone had placed a hand on his shoulder but it was soft, like the brush of a fallen leaf. The touch was familiar and he froze, all of the tension in his body having fled. _Marco?_

            Slowly, he turned his head to look at his shoulder, expecting to see a hand there. Sitting motionless on the white fabric of his shirt was a tiny dragonfly. Its big eyes seemed to stare at him as though urging him to comprehend something. _Wait._ He stared right back at it, eyes following its bright green body as it took off a moment later and flitted away into the sky. _A dragonfly in the middle of winter? What the hell?_ But as he lowered his eyes again, he caught sight of something lying on the ground across from him. It was a length of heavy metal piping nearly two feet long sitting on top of a piece of dirty green cloth. Jean grinned. _Thanks buddy._ He scooted over and grabbed the pipe and cloth. Testing its weight, he wrapped the length of fabric around his hand and gripped it tightly just as the restaurant’s back door opened.

            Jean pressed himself against the wall as he heard the heavy footfalls of his target nearing his position. A metallic click told him that the man had drawn his weapon and his cautious steps indicated that he was aware of his follower. If Jean had gone after him as he had intended, he would probably be dead right now. He waited until the man was about to reach the corner and raised the pipe, hoping that he would be able to strike before the man spotted him and took a shot. Time slowed as he watched the muzzle of the gun come first, then the hand and wrist. The man hadn’t turned yet but he would the second he came into view of the ally. As his head and shoulders came forward, there was a noise further down the larger ally that drew his attention away from his waiting attacker. Jean couldn’t tell what caused it but it had given him the opening he needed.

            Gritting his teeth, he brought the raised pipe down across the man’s back and shoulders. There was a sickening crunch and a grunt as the target’s eyes went wide and rolled into the back of his head. His big form crumpled to the ground and the gun clattered harmlessly away from his limp hand. He was still breathing but he sure as hell wasn’t going to be getting up for a good long while. The force of the impact had caused Jean’s hands to go numb and he dropped the pipe to rub at his fingers. They fumbled like rubber as he rifled through the fallen man’s pockets and found nothing but a wad of money, a lighter, and a pack of cigarettes. This man hadn’t been the one carrying the stolen goods, he realized with disappointment.

            Jean hadn’t been wearing an earpiece when he left the van either so he had no idea if the others had been successful. Now that he knew this one didn’t have what they were looking for, he had no reason to stay here. He also had no reason to kill the man and so he fled the scene, heading back the way he had come in order to return to the command center. When he got there he found all four Corps members waiting for him. They had mixtures of annoyance and relief on their faces when they caught sight of him. He could see that Mikasa was holding a tiny black stick in one hand that looked like a flash drive and figured that they must have been successful in the recovery. When he got close enough, Reiner spoke up.

            “Did you get him?”

            “Yeah, he was empty,” Jean said, displaying his cocky grin. “Guess you know that already.” He nodded at the object Mikasa was holding.

            “Next time, take an earpiece,” she returned angrily. _Do I detect a hint of concern?_

            The group hopped into the van, the two women taking the front seats with Mikasa driving, and they headed back to the company. As they drove, Reiner and Bertholdt filled Jean in on what had happened while he was off doing his own thing.

            “We managed to take them all out individually without any casualties,” Reiner was saying. “You made a good call back there. We probably would’ve blown the whole thing if you hadn’t caught on to what they were up to.” Jean was beaming proudly at this and Annie swung around to glare at him from the passenger seat.

            “Don’t let it go to your head. Jumping in like that was stupid,” she droned in monotone.

            “I didn’t have a choice,” Jean barked back. “What if that guy’d been the one with the goods?”

            “I don’t think that’s what she meant,” Bertholdt added, his face creased with concern as he looked at Jean. “It’s just that you forgot to take a weapon or your earpiece with you. I know you had to act fast, but if something bad had happened to you … we wouldn’t have been able to help you out.” Jean’s anger faded, he just couldn’t bring himself to be mad at the big pushover when he’d been that worried.

            “Right,” Reiner piped up, “you did the right thing. You just did it the wrong way. It’s not like we don’t appreciate what you did,” he said as he clapped a hand on Jean’s shoulder, “you really saved our asses back there. But you know Heichou’s going to rip you a new one for this. I don’t think he’ll take you off the field but from now on, you’re going to have to promise not to go running off without backup.”

            Jean sat there with his arms folded over his chest, a childish pout on his face. Reiner chuckled at him and turned away to let him brood. The others conversed with each other while he went over what had happened in his head. His thoughts followed the memory and he made mental notes here and there about what he could have done better or differently. When he came to that strange moment with the dragonfly at the intersection of allies, he felt a warmth seep into his body. It had been a strange series of coincidences that he couldn’t fully understand in retrospect, but deep down inside of his soul he knew one thing for sure and he grinned at the thought.

            _I already have backup._

\---------------

            Jean couldn’t stand still. He was waiting just outside the front of the hospital in which his partner had spent the last month in recovery. It was now the day before Christmas and Jean had gotten word that Marco was being released a few days early so that he could spend his holiday among friends and family. He had called the hospital and informed them that he would pick Marco up personally. Now he stood under a heavy grey sky eyeing clouds that threatened to dump inches of snow on his head at any moment. The weather had been strange lately. Every few days it would cloud up like this and threaten snow but it would lighten again without dropping a single flake. It was almost as though the sky was waiting for something. Jean scowled up at it in his impatience. He heard the hospital doors slide open and turned to see his partner walking towards him with a cane in one hand and a nurse supporting him with the other.

_He’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming!_

           Jean inwardly stamped his excitement down and waited nonchalantly as they came over to him. The nurse let Marco go and, once she was sure he wouldn’t keel over she took the cane, bid them farewell, and went back inside. Marco stood in the clothes Levi had brought him a few days prior, upper half buried in a big poofy jacket and jeans hanging loosely from his hips. It was almost sad to see how loose they were on him when they had been fitted perfectly before. Marco was beaming a smile at him and he cleared his throat.

           “You look like shit,” Jean said with a wide grin.

           “Likewise,” Marco said right back, matching it with his own gentle smile.

           It was the honest truth. After his first two visits, during both of which Marco had been asleep, he’d decided that he couldn’t handle seeing the man in such a pathethic state. So, he had thrown himself into his training with a vengeance. Jean had been so focused on improving his skills that he had foregone any free time in favor of extra practice. He was sure he must look like death warmed over by now. Behind Jean, one of the company’s sleek black Cadillacs sat running in the round driveway, pumping great white plumes into the freezing December air. The two of them stood there for a long time, reacquainting themselves with each other and wondering what to say next. They both opened their mouths to speak in unison but stopped when a big white flake drifted down between them. Above them, the sky had finally opened up and was now pouring fat drifts of snow down on them.

           Marco lifted his face to the sky and closed his eyes, letting white freckles form and melt amidst his own brown ones. Jean thought that he looked like an angel standing there with that peaceful look on his features. _If I touch him right now, he’ll break into a million pieces and fly away._ A moment later, Marco lowered his face once more and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Jean and resting his chin on his partner’s shoulder. Jean suddenly found that he couldn’t breathe, not from Marco’s weakened embrace but from the surge of desperate relief and affection that rushed through him.

           “Let’s go home,” he said as Jean shook in his embrace.

           The shorter man heaved a sigh, breath fogging up into the sky. It felt like he already _was_ home standing here in the arms of the person he had fallen in love with. He thought that in this moment, it wouldn’t make him seem strange if he returned the embrace. And so he wound his arms carefully around Marco’s chest, shaky hands fisting in the fabric of his jacket. Jean closed his eyes against the pounding of his heart and agreed with himself that this moment was the greatest Christmas gift he had ever received.

           “Yeah, let’s go home.”

+++++++++++

            Marco had fallen asleep for most of the ride home. Jean was taking extra care in driving considering his partner’s semi-fragile state and the snow that was now piling up on the roads and sidewalks of Greater Maria. By the look of things, it was going to pile up quite a bit overnight and give the entire city a picture perfect white Christmas tomorrow morning. Marco woke when the car pulled into the small garage parking lot where the company vehicles were stored and maintained. Jean helped him out and handed the car off to the attendant that was in charge of keeping all the keys and signing the vehicles out. He braced himself against Jean’s shoulder as they walked the winding sidewalk up the hill to the apartment house.

           Marco hadn’t seen it in so long that he’d forgotten how warm and cozy the place looked in the winter time. Lights were on in most of the windows and the chimney belched smoke, promising a warm fire and good company. The oddly shaped bushes that dotted the outside perimeter wore gaily draped strings of blinking lights and rows of plastic icicles lined the roof eaves and window sills. A drooping inflatable snowman bounced half buried off to one side of the short lawn as the two of them approached. When they got inside, everyone in Corps was waiting to greet them. A welcome back sign was hung across the hallway and they each had a conical party hat on. The inside of the house had been decorated for the holiday and there was a short tree in the living room dangerously listing to one side, having been overburdened with ornaments as usual. There was something missing and Marco found out what it was when Christa offered him a small glass star painted gold with a ring around the bottom spoke.

            “We couldn’t do it without you,” she said sweetly as the others nodded. They were all looking at him expectantly.

            Wiping a tear and giving a corny grin, he took the star and hobbled over to the tree. Carefully he placed it on the top most branch, the one that was sticking straight up. He was afraid that if he pushed it down too vigorously, the whole unstable thing would topple over. Thankfully, it sat cheerfully in place without fail and the room burst into cheer. There were – fortunately gentle – pats on the back and words of welcome all around. Eren clapped him on the shoulder none too gently as he addressed him, earning a wince from the injured man. Armin gave him a reproachful shove in the ribs which he completely ignored. Fortunately for all present, Jean hadn’t been watching at that exact moment.

            “Glad you’re back, Marco. You look like you could use a drink! Jean made special eggnog,” he said while jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

            “No way, jerkface,” Jean piped in with only half as much acidity in his tone as he would normally have had. Eren frowned at him but didn’t bite back. “The guy just got out. Give ‘em a chance to settle in, for fuck’s sake.”

           There was disappointment all around them, a few of them grumbling complaints and claiming that he looked just fine even though he really didn’t. Eren was one of the grumblers but he didn’t fight Jean on it. Marco wondered if Eren was just respecting the holiday cheer or if something had happened between him and Jean while he was gone. Whatever the reason, they were on civil terms at least for tonight and he was thankful for it.

            “Actually,” Marco said sheepishly, “I would like to take a shower, at least. I can only handle so many sponge baths before I start losing it.”

            There was laughter now and understanding from his colleagues. Marco did feel a little guilty about refusing to stick around for the festivities tonight but he honestly didn’t think he was up for it. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball with Jean next to him like a big teddy bear and enjoy the comfort of his own bed for the first time in a month. With Jean’s help, he climbed the stairs and was taken to his room. Jean sat him on the bed while he went about collecting Marco’s towel and bucket for him. Then he handed them over and gave Marco his shoulder again as they exited. Once in the hall, Jean stopped them.

            “Ah, hang on a sec,” he said and disappeared into his own room only to emerge a few seconds later with his bathroom essentials in hand. “I could use a good shower too. I, uh, didn’t get much sleep last night,” he said sneakily avoiding Marco’s gaze.

            They entered the bathroom and Marco removed himself from Jean’s support. In truth he wasn’t as fragile as everyone was making him seem, but he had missed his partner so much that he was glad to receive all the physical contact even under the pretense of needing the help. Marco turned away and leaned against the counter as he began to strip down to his underwear. Jean turned his back and did the same. Once Marco had his shirt off, he was startled by a touch against his back near the raw, ugly pink scar that marked the bullet’s entry. Looking over his shoulder, he found Jean a step behind him staring at the wound with a troubled look. He turned to face the other man in order to break the disturbing trance and Jean was met with a view of the matching exit wound on his stomach just above and to the side of his navel.

            “Does it hurt,” Jean asked, his hand held hovering a few inches from the wound.

            “Not all the time. It’s pretty tender and it stings pretty badly every once in a while but the doctor said it would be fine as long as I don’t overexert myself,” he replied, watching Jean’s face change as he ground his teeth together.

            “If I wasn’t so stupid back then, I could’ve done something. I could’ve –“

            “Don’t,” he said gently, “Jean, don’t start that.” Marco took Jean’s outstretched hand and placed the palm over the scar, forcing him to touch the wound. Jean’s fingers spasmed at the feeling. “It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing either of us could’ve done to prevent it. I’m not going anywhere. I’m real. So please, Jean. Just be happy that I’m here, that I’m alive.”

            Jean swallowed and closed his eyes. His fingertips stroked the puckered skin of the wound and Marco shivered. He wanted Jean to continue touching him, to give him the contact he so desperately missed, but Jean removed his hand after a few seconds and turned away.

            “I won’t forget what happened, Marco,” he growled, but then his face softened. It was an unusual look for Jean but Marco liked it. “But, I won’t blame myself either if that’s what you’re getting at. I’m just gonna say this: I won’t let you get hurt like that again. Ever. We’re gonna be the best goddamn partners this place has ever seen,” and he grinned over his shoulder at Marco. “Just watch.”

            Marco felt his heart jump into his throat and his eyes stung. The joy that bubbled up inside of his chest nearly choked him. He beamed his sunlight smile at Jean and followed the man into the shower area. They separated once inside and Jean called out to him as he started the water and got himself situated while waiting for it to warm up.

            “Hey, if you have any trouble just say so. I know you’re still weak but I don’t mind helping you out, so just speak up if there’s something you need,” he called way too casually.

            Marco wondered if Jean really understood what he was offering. He knew he should behave himself but his desire for Jean’s company was only getting stronger since they’d been brought together again. The little voice that plagued him in awkward moments like these, the one that drove him to do bad things that he knew he shouldn’t, was urging him to misbehave. _If you cry out, pretend that it hurts, he’ll come to you. You know you want to, just once. Go ahead. He said so himself, didn’t he? He won’t mind._

            It was too tempting and Marco was far too tired and deprived to refuse the urge. He placed a hand over his wound and dropped his bar of soap loudly to the tile floor, groaning just loudly enough for Jean to hear. In half a second Jean threw open the curtain and caught sight of him hunched over against the wall, face contorted in a grimace of pain. Jean forgot that they were both naked and slipped an arm around Marco’s back to hold him upright, placing his other hand over the one Marco was using to cover the scar.

            “What is it, Marco?! What’s wrong,” he cried as Marco straightened himself a bit.

            Selfishly, Marco held the grimace in place for a few minutes while he reveled in the feel of Jean’s skin against his own. Jean was watching him in concern and had buried his nose and mouth in Marco’s hair worriedly.

            “Talk to me, man,” Jean mumbled into Marco’s hair.

            Guilt suddenly stabbed him in the gut. Jean was honestly in fear for his life and here he was, using the situation to his advantage just to get what he wanted, again. He acted out recovering from the pain and stood shakily under his own power so as not to give away the ruse, offering Jean a pained smile. The apology in it was sincere.

           “Sorry, Jean. I’m alright now, I just get pangs sometimes. Everything’s fine once they pass, though. You can let me go now,” he said, calling attention to the fact that they were naked in a shower stall together with a blushing glance down at himself.

            At first Jean didn’t seem convinced but when he came back to the reality of their present surroundings, he turned red all the way to his ears and nodded shakily. He released Marco and stumbled his way back to his own stall. They finished their showers at the same time and met up again in the sink area once they had dried off. Marco chided himself as they went back to their rooms to get dressed. He would have plenty of chances to be near his partner while they were out in the field together. He could afford to take it easy and recuperate like a good little boy should be doing.

           In the hospital, Marco had decided that it was time to confess his feelings for Jean. The loneliness of sitting in that uncomfortable bed and staring constantly out the window, wondering where the man he loved was and what he was doing, had been too much to handle after all. The rose he’d found one morning a week after having been hospitalized had long since withered and died but he had done absolutely everything he could to keep it alive. He couldn’t remember why, but it seemed like the most important thing in the world at the time; as if letting the rose wither meant something awful. By the end of his stay, he was going mad with his need to see the other man and the harried nurses were glad to see him go.

           He realized he would have to wait until he’d fully recovered so that he could give Jean as much attention as he deserved, but they had all the time in the world now. Jean had clearly missed him just as much as he had missed Jean and although Marco had been tempted to complain that his partner couldn’t be bothered to visit, he thought he understood why Jean hadn’t. Now that the two of them were back together, he just had to figure out how and when he was going to make his move – and how to make sure Jean didn’t flee like a frightened rabbit afterwards. He resolved to talk to someone about his new problem sometime in the near future once he had returned to health enough to get the ball rolling.

_Soon, Jean. Soon, we can be the partners we should have been from the start._

+++++++++++

            He couldn’t find Marco. The man had excused himself and vanished the minute they got back from their field run earlier. Jean was debriefed by Levi and released to go track down his other half. Marco had been recovering at an alarming rate since having returned to the company. It was the Friday of January the 24th, only a month after Marco’s release, and he was running around like nothing had ever happened. Marco had regained the weight he had lost during his hospital stay and he looked even better now than during any of the time Jean had known him before. The two of them were working well enough together that even Levi had praised them one day on their way back from a mission. But, something had been eating away at Marco. Jean noticed the way he bit his lip and studied him from the corner of his eye whenever he thought his partner wasn’t looking. He could also detect a vague avoidance in the way Marco touched him casually or refused to stare at him for longer than a friend would.

            Jean was afraid that they were going to slip back into the friends-only tension that had almost broken them before. Now he was on a mission to find Marco and set him straight. Jean had decided after that first night of having Marco home again that he would finally confess to the man. He’d come to realize during his time away from Marco that he needed the man more than the very air he breathed. It had taken insane amounts of effort to stay on track without his guardian angel by his side and the loneliness had been sheer torture. Even the following month he’d spent in field training with Marco had been rough. Having the object of his need so close and yet unable to touch for fear of hurting him had been the final straw. He was going to make Marco understand that he was sick of ignoring his urges and to hell with all the restricting and the distancing and _he’ll just have to accept it so we can fuck each other’s brains out already and be done with it_.

            He had a problem, though. He had no idea how to bring it up or even talk about it. He had a severe lack of experience in the relationship department that he knew was probably going to cause him to screw the whole thing up. Jean could only hope that Marco would understand and not freak out and end their partnership right then and there. Or, even worse, apologize and tell him that he was interested in someone else. Jean would do anything to avoid having to see the man he was in love with embracing some other undeserving person.

           Jean wandered through the gym, waving half-heartedly at Reiner and Annie on his way past. Marco was nowhere to be seen inside but just then he’d caught Ymir outside on her way back to the house. She mentioned seeing Marco chatting with Christa a few minutes ago in front of the locker room. Jean poked his head inside and looked around for any signs of life. The place was empty but he could hear voices coming from over near the door leading to the rear of the building in the back of the room. Upon closer inspection, he could hear Marco’s muffled voice through the metal with Christa’s voice intermittently dispersed. They were speaking low enough that he couldn’t make out the words unless he pressed an ear flush against the door. He figured eavesdropping would be a bad idea but he was much too curious about the conversation to resist the temptation.

            “- don’t know what else to do. He has no idea. I’m still so afraid that if I tell him, he’ll get upset and that’ll be the end of everything,” Marco was saying. It was obvious that Jean was catching the tail end of the conversation.

            “Well,” Christa said thoughtfully, “you’ll just have to trust him to understand. Besides, you can still be partners even if you can’t be together. I’ve said it before, right? There’s no need to look at this like it’s the end of the world if things don’t go well.”

            Marco sighed audibly and Jean heard him shuffle his feet loudly.

            “I don’t want to hurt him but I can’t keep hiding the truth,” he said miserably. “Keeping this secret is _killing me_ , Christa. It’s bad enough that I didn’t tell him everything about that night. If he knew what I’ve been keeping quiet about, he’d never trust me again.”

            _That night?_ Jean was starting to worry about the direction the conversation was going in. _Is he talking about the party?_

            “Have you spoken to Connie about this?” That was Christa, she sounded hesitant to bring it up. “He might be able to help you break the news. I mean, he _was_ your partner before all of this.” Jean froze, his body going cold. Were they really discussing what it sounded like they were talking about? Jean distinctly remembered the feeling of fury that had clung to him when he thought about the little prankster the day after his blackout.

            “I did consider that,” Marco said thoughtfully, “but regardless of how Connie feels, this problem is my own to handle. Whatever relationship I have with my former partner shouldn’t have any bearing on this decision.”

            _Relationship … with his former partner?_ Jean stopped listening. It made sense now; the hesitation, the worried sideways glances, the distance that kept building up between them. Then there was Marco’s constant concern for Connie whenever the little guy went looking for trouble. The man was in love with his former partner and he was conflicted because of the partnership he shared with Jean. Marco was conferring with Christa about how to come clean with him about the whole thing. Something cold and seething crawled down Jean’s spine and settled into the pit of his stomach.

            “- tell him today. If you sit on it any longer it’ll just hurt you both. You did say he tends to get the wrong idea,” Christa said.

            “Yeah, you’re right. I’m so tired of carrying this. It’s time for me to come clean. I’m pretty much fully recovered now so Jean won’t have to worry about me getting hurt anymore, especially if he decks me for this. I’ll do it tonight after dinner.”

            There was a rustle as both people stood up. Jean scrabbled back away from the door and silently escaped the room as fast as he could. Once outside the locker room his shock began to morph into panic. He was dimly aware of someone calling his name uncertainly as he walked unseeing through the gym and burst through the doors into the open air outside. His eyes burned with tears and he broke into a run, catching the eyes of everyone else present as he fled. He ran blindly in a random direction away from the complex of buildings, vision too blurry to see clearly where he was going.

            _He loves someone else. He’s in love with that little bastard. It makes sense, right?_ He heard voices calling out for him urgently beyond visual range but he ignored them and kept going, careening into bushes and getting his face scratched by bare low hanging branches. The cold air was a stark contrast to the hot moisture tracing over his cheeks. His heart thudded painfully in his tight chest, lungs burning as he panted with exertion, hands clenched into white knuckled fists.

            _All this time, I thought he was mine. I thought I could be in love with him. I thought he gave a shit about me more than anyone else. I thought I was special._ That last word hissed quietly at him like a viper in his mind. He reached the front gate and slammed into it, giving it a vicious kick when it refused to yield. A startled guard in the gate booth nearby recognized him and buzzed it open. Jean ignored him when he called out a question and tore off into the streets of Greater Maria.

            _That’s it. I’m done. If I can’t have him, I won’t play this fuckin’ game anymore. He’s all yours Connie. I guess I should’ve seen it coming. You two probably had a thing before I ever walked into the picture, right? What the fuck was I thinking?_ Jean plowed through the late afternoon streets without paying any attention to where he was going. The fury that radiated from him like a hot coal kept anyone from interrupting his silent tirade. Eventually the sky darkened and he was left to wander the streets at night on his own. Back at the company complex, Reiner was explaining to a stunned Marco that Jean had come running out of the locker room in tears shortly before he disappeared. Marco could only assume one thing. Jean had been listening in and had once again gotten entirely the wrong impression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Jean... *facepalm* On another note, I hope I'm not moving too fast with this. I did say I like the slow build kind of story but I tend to get carried away while writing and forget that sometimes it's best to take my time. Sorry about that...


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prodigal son returns, a mission gets botched, something finally gives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of my wonderful readers are still with me. I know I don't reply individually but I still very very very much appreciate your comments and kudos! This was one of the more fun chapters to write. I hope you enjoy it. :3

            It was nearly a week after Jean had vanished and Marco was about to start clawing at the walls. The change in him had been startling for everyone. Their usually soft spoken and outgoing friend was frantic and distressed, unable to concentrate on anything or hold up a conversation. He had barely eaten or slept and his face was drawn and sallow, deep circles under his eyes and a thick five o’clock shadow on his chin. Shortly after the disappearance, Levi had come down from his office to find Marco arguing with the garage attendant about letting him take one of the cars. When the argument had nearly come to blows, Levi had suspended Marco’s activities and grounded him, forbidding him from leaving the compound until Jean returned.

            During this time, Marco’s comrades stayed away from him, knowing that Jean’s disappearance was the cause of his current state. They also avoided him because three days after it happened, Marco had lost his calm over being under house arrest and put his fist through one of the bathroom mirrors. The cuts on his knuckles had fortunately only been minor and didn’t require stitches but since then, even Ymir avoided making eye contact with him. No one had any idea that their kind and docile Boy Next Door could be driven to reckless violence. The only person who had tried to speak to him at all had been Christa and she had done so carefully while tending to his wounds on that third day. His responses had been short and noncommittal and she had given up after only a few failed attempts.

            Eventually, on the Thursday of the last week in January – six days after Jean had left them -- Levi had ordered Marco to clean himself up and come up to his office. Marco almost refused but Levi had shown a small amount of sympathy and informed him that he was going to take care of the situation personally. It seemed that even their unflappable Heichou had his limits when it came to this sort of thing. Marco didn’t understand what that meant at the time but he reluctantly did as he was told. He saw Levi heading for the car garage as he left the main building to go back to his apartment. Half an hour later Marco re-entered the tower and, silver key card in hand, took the elevator up. On the top floor, Levi’s door was open and the office was empty. Marco flopped heavily into one of the two chairs in front of the immaculate desk to wait for his commander’s return. He waited about twenty more minutes before he heard the chime of the elevator out in the waiting room. Rising to his feet, he stood at attention as best he could.

            Levi walked briskly into the office followed by a ragged looking and stony faced Jean. Marco nearly seized up in relief, eyes flown wide, to see his partner walk in alive but his condition was heart breaking. Jean’s clothes were torn and stained by dirt and muck and small spots of blood in some places. He was gaunt and had dark stubble on his chin and dark circles under his eyes. He smelled like he’d been dragged repeatedly through a sewer and there were small bruises in various stages on most of his visible skin, as well as scabbed wounds on his knuckles. When he glanced at Marco, he sneered and looked away again just as quickly. The look stung Marco to the core. _What the hell happened to you, Jean?_

            “Both of you sit down,” Levi snapped, indicating the chairs, “and don’t talk until I tell you to.” He sounded more tired than angry. The two men complied, and he continued.

            “I would like more than anything to separate you two and send this idiot packing right this minute,” he said, looking directly at Jean.

            “Do it,” Jean said immediately. His words were completely devoid of emotion. Levi glared at him for interrupting and continued.

            “However, I’m under strict orders not to do so.” He clearly regretted this fact. “Whatever royal fucking catastrophe is going on between you two right now, you need to get the fuck over it. Jean was supposed to get approval to begin practice missions today, and in light of this I had a mission lined up for tomorrow that the two of you were going to handle alone.”

            Marco was slowly starting to lose his composure the more Levi talked. His hands were clenching his knees tight enough for his fingers to go white down to the knuckle and he was trembling visibly. Why weren’t they talking about what happened to Jean? Why was Levi ignoring his partner’s condition and not explaining where he’d been all this time? Why was he going on as if everything would just magically clear itself up now that Jean was back? How the fuck had Levi even found the man so quickly to begin with? Levi was talking again but Marco wasn’t listening.

            “Did you hear me, Marco?” Marco focused on him blankly.

            “Christ,” he groaned softly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I asked if you think you can handle the mission tomorrow well enough to deal with this bullshit afterwards, or if I have to call it off so you two can duke it out in the parking lot first.” Marco opened his mouth to reply but Jean cut in, voice still cold and unfeeling.

            “It won’t be a problem,” he said, still looking straight at Levi. “Whatever changes need to be made, you can take care of tomorrow night.”

            _Changes? What changes? Jean, why are you shutting everything out like this?_ Marco stared at the side of his partner’s face in disbelief. Then he remembered why Jean had run off in the first place. _What the hell kind of conclusion did you jump to that has you acting like all of this is over?_ Levi was waiting for Marco to answer him. Marco swallowed and straightened his spine, reaching his decision and turning to his commander.

            “We’ll do the mission and figure this out afterwards, sir,” he said.

            “Fine. Now, I want the two of you to stay out of each other’s way until then. I don’t need your school boy drama bogging everything down,” he said as he held two manila folders out to them. They each took one. “Those are the mission details. I suggest you spend your time going over them individually and preparing to do your jobs.”

            With that, Levi dismissed them. They stood and Marco left the room while Jean was asked to stay. Whatever Levi had to say to him, Marco wasn’t privy to it. He took the elevator ride down alone and went straight back to his room, shutting the door and opening the folder so he could read the document inside. About an hour later he heard Jean’s door open and slam shut. It almost felt like a door inside his heart slammed shut as well.

\---------------

            The next morning Marco and Jean met each other without words of greeting. They waited in front of the apartment house in the cold and gloom of pre-dawn on the last day of January. Jean had cleaned himself up and shaved that morning some time before Marco had even gotten out of bed. His look had improved considerably and he didn’t smell like a garbage dump anymore but it still looked as though he hadn’t slept. Marco didn’t press him for the sake of their mission since it appeared that he was at least in good enough shape to handle his part. Though, he still imagined that the two of them looked like quite a pair of run down souls.

            The mission was fairly simple. They were going to work in unison to track down and capture a confirmed child kidnapping expert to bring in for interrogation and prosecution. The man was a member of an underground kidnapping ring that specialized in taking children from the middle class families on the edge of Sina District and asking for large sums of ransom. The families were just wealthy enough to pay the high amounts of ransom if they cleaned out their bank accounts, but not connected enough to rally the kind of investigative power necessary to track down the kidnappers and rescue their hostages. They always paid the ransom and they never got their children back alive.

            It wasn’t a mission that was supposed to be particularly difficult but it was important enough that they couldn’t afford to fail. Currently, the man they were hunting was working as a janitor in an office building on the other side of town. There were a number of typical middle class workers in the building, prime targets for the organization’s nefarious plans, and few of them would be working since today was a Friday. The situation there was the perfect setup for a successful capture.          The two men hopped into the back of the van as it came around to where they stood. Reiner was driving the van with Bertholdt sitting in the passenger seat. They were the team that had worked with Jean the most during his field observation period. For this venture, they would be the emergency retrieval team just in case something went wrong but would otherwise not be participating in the mission. Levi was waiting for them in the back of the van.

           On the way, he offered to answer any questions they had about the mission details and made a few suggestions, but eventually quieted down when he realized that they weren’t interested in talking. They were strapped in with weapons checked and holstered and earpieces in place by the time the van pulled up half a block down the street from the target building. Jean and Marco hopped out, surprising a few pedestrians, and walked briskly down the sidewalk. They weren’t going to just walk right in the front door but it wasn’t a stealth mission either, so they hadn’t bothered with street clothes. Instead, when they got close enough, they ducked down a side ally and came up beside one of the building’s service entrances. The dingy metal door was unlocked.

            “Boy Next Door, Prince, what is your status,” came Levi’s voice over their earpieces.

            “Back door, it’s open. We’re heading in. How’s the front looking?” It was Marco who replied, holding the door open while Jean went in ahead of him.

            “No movement,” Bertholdt replied immediately over the radio. Contrary to his meek nature outside of missions, he was focused and efficient when on duty.

            Marco followed Jean through the dirty passageways that ran along the perimeter of the building interior. Water and electrical piping ran everywhere above their heads and there were storage or electrical closets here and there, most of which were closed off. They turned a corner and saw fluorescent light streaming from an open doorway up ahead. As they continued to approach, a scrawny man in a filthy blue janitor’s outfit came out into the hall, finger working at the screen of a smartphone in his hand. Everyone in the vicinity froze when the man sensed them and looked up. He had beady blue eyes and a messy tuft of thin brown hair on his balding head. The man narrowed his eyes and took off in the opposite direction at surprising speed. Jean shouted wordlessly and bolted after him, Marco hot on his tail.

            The man ran recklessly down the hall and although he was fast, his outfit and lack of physical fitness put him at a disadvantage. Jean had almost caught up to him when he dodged his pursuer’s grab and threw himself into a storage closet. Jean skidded to a halt and turned as Marco reached the door with his gun raised and every intention of taking the man into custody.         He was roughly shoved aside as Jean shouldered past him and pounced on top of the man. He threw blow after blow at the poor soul beneath him while Marco looked on in shock. Levi was yelling into his ear as he watched his partner go berserk. After a good number of hits Jean whipped one of his guns out and pointed it at the man’s head.

            “Don’t you fuckin’ run from me, you worthless piece of shit. You’re coming with me,” he spat into the man’s face. The man, rather than cowering in fear as Jean wanted, started to laugh. Jean’s gun quivered as his grip tightened with fury.

            “You Shiganshina pigs are barking up the wrong tree,” he growled in a strange accent. “I won’t tell you faggots anything. You’ll just have to shoot me,” he sneered as Jean’s hackles rose from the insult, “or maybe you’d rather butt fuck me and treat me to dinner, you skinny little dick eating fuck.”

            Marco knew the man was trying to push Jean into killing him and by the look of his partner, it was working. _Jean, don’t fall for it. You’re smarter than this. You know he’s just egging you on._ But Jean was falling for it. Marco knew he couldn’t let this man die, at least not yet, but stopping Jean now would put them both in danger of failing the mission. When Jean shoved the pistol into the guy’s mouth and began to squeeze the trigger, he knew the choice had been made for him.

            Marco dashed forward and hooked Jean under the arms, wrapping his own arms around Jean’s chest, and pulled him off. The gun went off during the struggle but the bullet thunked harmlessly into the concrete wall above the target’s head with a puff of dust. Jean struggled against him, enraged beyond the capability of forming words, and Marco was shoved back against a wall. Their target, sensing his chance, scrambled to his feet and darted out into the hallway before Marco could release Jean to tackle him. Marco moved to give chase but was met with Jean’s fist to his jaw. The punch was poorly aimed and not as strong as it could have been thanks to Jean being temporarily blinded by his emotions. Marco grabbed his wrists, spun him around, and shoved Jean face first up against the wall. He held Jean’s wrists firmly in his hands as he spoke over the radio urgently.

            “This is Boy Next Door. The target is on the move. I can’t give chase. Prince is incapacitated. Please send someone to retrieve us.” The disappointment in his voice was painfully apparently.

            “Shit,” Levi spat, “Tank, go get those morons. Gentle Giant, circle around to the other back door. I want tag rounds loaded just in case.”

            Both men replied in the affirmative and sprung to action. A few minutes later Reiner found them in the tiny room. Marco was keeping Jean restrained silently and Jean had finally given up struggling in his awkward position. He was glaring at nothing with his cheek pressed into the wall in front of him.

            “This is Tank. I’m with Boy Next Door and Prince. No injuries,” Reiner said and holstered his gun. Then Bertholdt’s voice came over the radio.

            “Target is tagged at the second rear exit. He’s going to ground. Do you want me to pursue?”

            “No, pack it up and meet us back at the command unit. Good work, Gentle Giant,” Levi replied.

            Once Reiner gave them room, Marco released Jean and backed off. He half expected his partner to round on him with his fists again but the man simply slumped and rubbed his wrists. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, he would have laughed at the pout Jean was wearing. They followed Reiner out of the building with Jean trailing behind them like a sullen child. Inside the command unit, Levi was staring intently at what looked to be a GPS map on one of the van’s many screens. There was green blip on it moving slowly along the line of a street. Levi motioned them to sit with a jerk of his finger while he watched it. Eventually it moved off the street and into a building and turned red a moment later. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

            “At least our target isn’t very bright,” he mumbled. “Gentle Giant just saved both your asses,” he said as he turned to face them, arms crossed and hip braced against the counter, “for now. Care to explain what the fuck happened in there? I believe I told you both not to screw this up with your personal bullshit.” His steel eyes gleamed dangerously in the dim artificial light of the van.

            Jean rested his elbows on his knees and lowered his face into his hands. Beside him Marco met Levi’s gaze. He matched Levi’s look and his commander raised an eyebrow.

            “It was an accident,” Marco said firmly. Jean jerked next to him but didn’t look up.

            “It didn’t look like an accident to me,” Levi said in a deceptively conversational tone.

            “It was, sir. Jean accidentally let that guy’s insults get to him. Then his fist accidentally tripped over the other guy’s face. Several times.”

            “Oh? He must have said something very bad.”

            “Very bad, sir. But Jean and I,” he said with a pointed look at the back of his partner’s head, “will be having a discussion about his behavior today as soon as we get back. With your permission, I would like the opportunity to complete the mission tomorrow.”

            “Hmm,” Levi hummed. He had the look of a cat toying with its prey. “It’s true that we’ll probably have to wait about twenty four hours to make our next move, and we know where the target will be at that time.” He studied Marco unblinking for a long time before he finished with, “Alright, this is your last chance. Things aren’t going to be easy next time. Get it taken care of. Tonight. If you’re not holding hands when I pick you up tomorrow morning, I’m stuffing your pissy little friend here into a suitcase and mailing him back to his daddy.”

            Marco smiled a very rare and dark smile that he knew Levi would both understand and appreciate. “Consider it taken care of, Heichou.”

+++++++++++

            As soon as the van pulled up to the curb in front of the apartment house, Jean leapt out and stormed inside with every intention of escaping the inevitable. Marco was on his heels all the way to his room. When Jean tried to slam the door in his face, Marco caught it and pushed into his room behind him. Everything about the man said that he was done being nice. Marco locked the door behind him and Jean backed as far away from him as he could get in the small space. They stared each other down as the silence between them stretched. Jean’s breathing sped up as his anger and frustration began to mount. His partner just stood there staring calmly at him and saying nothing. When he couldn’t stand the silence anymore, Jean finally burst.

            “What the hell do you want, Marco” he growled through clenched teeth.

            “I want to talk,” his partner replied. The calm words only irked Jean even more.

            “Talk about what? About my screw up? Or about the fact that you don’t wanna be my partner anymore? Or maybe you wanna talk about all the sick shit you and Connie do whenever I’m not looking?” Jean was hyperventilating as the rant progressed.

            Marco’s face changed subtly when the truth behind Jean’s attitude became known. He unfolded his arms and crossed the room slowly while Jean was still spouting at him.

            “You know, if you didn’t wanna be my partner all this time you could have just said something at the start! I spent all this time trusting you. I thought we were gonna be together for real when all of this was through. But all this time … all this time,” Jean had backed into his small desk and pressed the heel of one hand into his eyes in a feeble attempt to curb the headache he was getting as his anger boiled to a feverish pitch. Marco was standing inches away from him now, waiting for him to finish.

            “You were with him, weren’t you? That’s why you stayed away. That’s why things kept getting so awkward. I wish you’d just told me from the beginning, dammit. I wish you’d told me before I –“ Jean hissed and pounded a fist against Marco’s chest, “before I fuckin’ fell in love with your sorry ass!”

            At his words, Marco took hold of his raised fist and pulled Jean against him. He slid his other arm around Jean’s waist and covered his mouth with his own. Jean closed his eyes tightly and fought against the kiss at first. When Marco only gripped him tighter and angled his mouth, a mental switch seemed to flip and he pressed into the kiss angrily. He needed this the way a drowning man needed air. The slight height difference between them had Jean tilting his head up slightly to meet his partner. A few seconds into the kiss Jean jolted and pushed Marco away, his senses returning with painful clarity when a vision of Connie’s face flashed through his mind.

            “Don’t,” he warned, turning his face away in disgust. “I can’t do this knowing that you do the same thing to _him_.” When Marco chuckled softly his cheeks flamed and he turned back to argue.

            “It’s you,” Marco said, eyes reflecting the afternoon sunlight leaking through the closed blinds of the only window. Jean froze in his arms.

            “What?”

            “It’s you, Jean. Not Connie. It’s always been you. The one I want is you.”

            “Then, why –“ Marco stopped him with another laugh.

            “You really shouldn’t eavesdrop and then run off when you only have half the story,” he said as he smiled in exasperation at Jean.

            Jean stood there thinking about what Marco had just said. He searched back through his memory from a week ago and reviewed the bits of conversation he’d heard. In retrospect he supposed there hadn’t really been anything in what was said that indicated an intimate relationship between the two former partners. The crestfallen look must have tipped Marco off, because Jean suddenly found himself wrapped up in his partner’s embrace with the man’s face buried in the crook of his shoulder.

            “Jean, I’m done with this. I’m done with dancing around you. I’m done with trying to protect your feelings and trying to keep things simple between us. I’m done with waiting for you to come around and admit that you like me just as much as I like you,” he mumbled into Jean’s shoulder.

            “From now on, I’m not going to hold back. I want things to be messy and awkward. I want to embarrass you in front of everyone else. I want to do bad things to you when we’re alone together after a tough mission. I want you to know what it feels like to have me inside of you,” his voice had taken on that low tone again and Marco was speaking against his skin, lips dragging lightly up his neck and around to his mouth. Jean shivered as he stopped a hair’s breadth from his lips and looked him directly in the eye. There was no mistaking his sincerity.

            “But most of all, I want to spend the rest of this messed up existence with the _only_ person in this world that matters to me. With my _partner_ , Jean Kirschtein.”

           With that Marco closed the distance again and angled his mouth against Jean’s. He was rough, dragging his tongue across Jean’s lips. He slid a hand down to Jean’s hip and pressed his thumb into the soft skin of his lower stomach. Jean responded with a gasp and Marco took the opportunity to push his tongue inside where it met its counterpart. They melded with each other for a long time, breathing intermittently through their noses, tongues chasing each other. Jean’s head swam with dizziness as Marco’s words replayed over and over in his mind. Certain phrases kept coming back to him and spurred the wrapping of his arms around the other man’s waist, gripping the fabric of his shirt so hard that he thought the seams might rip.

_… as much as I like you … messy and awkward … do bad things to you …have me inside of you …_

           The last bit made his entire body shake with desire and drew a low moan up from deep in his throat. Marco responded with a similar sound as he brought a hand up to thread his fingers through Jean’s hair, sending pleasant tingles along his skin. Eventually and reluctantly Marco broke away, tongue darting over swollen lips. Jean yearned for Marco’s taste as soon as he lost it. He surged forward hungrily but Marco barely avoided his touch. He whimpered at the unfair advantage Marco had in their positions. The freckled man had total control over Jean and he damn well knew it by the amused look in his eyes.

           “We’re both exhausted,” Marco said as he rested his forehead against Jean’s, “and we’ll have plenty of time to continue this after tomorrow.”

           Jean hated him for being logically sound in this moment of lost heads and burning emotions. Marco was always too calm. Jean wanted to see him lose some of that damn control he always seemed to have. He wanted to drive his partner mad with desire the way his partner was doing the same to him. What he _didn’t_ want was to admit that, yes, he was completely wiped and if Marco hadn’t chased him down he would probably be comatose this very minute.

           “You’re always right, you jerk,” Jean grumbled as he thumped Marco’s chest with a curled fist in mock threat.

           His partner giggled and dragged him over to his bed where he sat and drew Jean into his lap. The momentum brought them crashing together and they kissed again with a little less intensity but no less affection than before. When Jean thought he was finally about to memorize the contours of the inside of Marco’s mouth, he was stopped once more. He scowled down at the man even as his body stilled in response to the hand Marco had pressed flat against his chest. Jean had no idea where his body had learned this particular instinctive response but it was ingrained deep into his psyche. The fact that Marco was the only person he could ever recall having made it work both annoyed and fascinated him. He watched Marco bring one of his hands up and press his lips chastely to the underside of his wrist.

           “Hold still,” Marco mumbled against his skin.

           He obeyed without retort as Marco stripped them both of their outer clothing. His long fingers and steady hands moved slowly and methodically. His ministrations were purposeful but not teasing. Marco made it clear that he wasn’t doing this with the intention of having sex afterwards. Jean pouted the whole time and only earned another giggle for it. When they were both in their underwear, Marco wrapped his arms around Jean and threw him sideways into the pillows playfully. They were tangled together in the bed and Jean put up a weak struggle as Marco settled next to him and pulled the comforter over them both. Jean tried to kiss him again and Marco turned him around so that Jean had his back to the other man, smirking the whole time. He grumbled under his breath as Marco pulled their bodies flush with one another and draped his free arm around Jean’s waist.

           “We just got started and you wanna go to sleep,” Jean threw over his shoulder.

           “We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow and we both need our rest, badly” Marco said into Jean’s hair, words tickling the nape of his neck as he talked.

           “It’s six in the fuckin’ afternoon!” Jean said, pointing to the digital clock on his desk.

           “Yes, but I know as well as you do that neither of us had any real sleep in the last week,” Marco argued soundly, “and I don’t know about you, but I would rather get the extra hours of rest and succeed tomorrow than fail and have Levi kick you out.”

           He had a valid point, Jean had to concede. Failure on tomorrow’s mission was absolutely not an option after today’s debacle. His brain wanted to agree and just shut down for a good fourteen hours but his dick wasn’t having any of it. Marco sensed his inner turmoil.

           “I suppose I can give you a preview of what you’re going to get later on,” he said as he pressed his lips into the exposed side of Jean’s neck. “But if I do, you have to go to sleep afterwards. I’m serious Jean, be a good boy for me just for one more night and I’ll reward you.”

           Marco pressed his fingertips into Jean’s skin and slid them down to the waist band of his boxers. Jean’s breath hitched and he squeezed his eyes shut, fingers digging into the sheets. Marco’s hand pushed further in and wrapped around Jean’s cock, which had been hard for a few minutes now. Jean arched his back against the other man as Marco stroked his length and rubbed his thumb along the head. He was made aware of the hardness that was pressed against the small of his back when Marco shifted against him. Apparently Jean hadn’t been the only one caught between two different and equally demanding biological needs.

           When his partner’s hand began to move, he was suddenly no longer aware of anything at all other than the sensation of the stroking of strong fingers. The feel of a foreign grip pumping him drew him into a trance of ecstasy, digits sliding along his skin and following the contours of his length. Jean’s hips jerked in time to the motion and Marco was making low cooing noises in his ear as he fisted his fingers into Jean’s hair and pulled his head back. He felt Marco moving his own hips as well, sliding against him through his clothes, and wondered for a moment if he should be doing the same favor for his partner. Then Marco started talking and he no longer cared. Marco’s voice and hand and the sensations in his crotch and the lips against his ear were all that mattered.

           “I can’t hear you, Jean,” Marco pleaded, “and I’ve waited for so long to hear you say it. Tell me. Tell me who it is that you want touching you. Tell me who it is you need to feel against your skin.”

           Marco’s own words were a little shaky and his breathing was just as fast and shallow as Jean’s. Jean felt his breath hot against his skin and the stutter as his partner rutted against him. He had a vice grip on his pillow as Marco worked him with expert flicks of his wrist and strokes of his fingers. He knew he was making small embarrassing noises with each stroke, formless grunts and mewls that he would have been ashamed of at any other time, but he didn’t give a damn right now. Words, however, wouldn’t come to him. He crooked his spine and inadvertently ground his hips against Marco’s erection in the process.

           “Tell me, Jean,” Marco suddenly commanded with a strained voice and the instinctive side of Jean’s brain responded.

           “Hnng, ah! Marco,” he gasped out.

           “What about me, Jean?”

           “I-I want, hah,” he shuddered and bucked his hips, nearing release.

           “What … what is it that you want,” Marco hissed against him as he thrust his hips viciously.

           “Touch,” he moaned, “I want you to touch m-me.” He was beyond embarrassment now, desperate for Marco to bring him to completion. “God, please! Marco, I’m –“ he choked on his words and came into his partner’s hand with a low cry, hot pleasure clenching his groin and bursting white spots behind his eyelids.

           Marco thrust erratically against him as Jean was coming down from his euphoria and he felt something warm and sticky against his back. He wondered when Marco had taken it upon himself to expose his erection and was surprised to find that he really wasn’t all that disgusted by the thought of his partner coating his back in semen. Especially considering he’d just done the same to Marco’s hand. The brief thought of Marco never washing that appendage again as though he’d just shaken his favorite celebrity’s hand almost send Jean into a fit of laughter but he was way too tired to let it out.

           “Hold still,” Marco told him as he reached over and ripped a few tissues from the box Jean kept on his tiny nightstand.

           He let Marco clean them both off well enough to go to sleep without feeling disgusting and when Marco had finished, he leaned back against the other man’s chest. Freckled arms enfolded him and he closed his eyes against the red light of the setting sun. As he felt sleep claiming him, he turned his head enough so that he could see the other man in the corner of his vision. Marco blinked at him curiously.

           “Anyone ever tell you that you don’t play fair,” Jean asked with a false frown.

           “All the time,” Marco replied, his smile broad and guilty.

           “Then, for the record, fuck you,” Jean said, grinning right back at him. The look Marco gave him went straight to his groin.

           “All in good time, Jean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It looks like I may come up one chapter short, but there are some things I still need to cover so I'll probably add an epilogue at the end.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean isn’t a morning person, Levi admits defeat just this once, showers are fun finale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, all the comments, I can't even express my gratitude. :O Thank you all so much!
> 
> Here's the next one. Not much more to go now but after having written this, I've got a bunch of new ideas, including a one shot in this universe and a new J/M multi-chap in an entirely different setting. That one will probably be shorter than this one though.
> 
> Anyways, I won't hold you up any further. :)

            The first thing Jean noticed when he crawled lethargically out of his dream state the next morning was the fact that his back was warm and there was something heavy draped over his legs and chest. As he came around to full awareness he went through several stages of realization. First, he panicked, not knowing where he was or if he was safe. Then, upon recognizing his own room and remembering that he had returned to the company, he panicked again when he realized that he wasn’t alone in his bed. Finally, after remembering that Marco had gone to sleep in bed with him the night before, he panicked a third time upon remembering what they had done just before sleeping. Behind him, Marco chuckled into his hair.

            “You have an interesting way of waking up,” he said as he hugged his stiff partner to him.

            “And you’re heavy, get off me,” Jean grumbled with no actual bite.

           He checked the digital clock on his desk and saw that it was a few minutes after seven in the morning. They still had some time before Levi would expect them to be ready so he closed his eyes and attempted to drift back into a lovely state of snooze. Marco, however, wasn’t having any of it now that Jean was awake. _Great, he’s a talker. I hate morning people._

           “Jean, I don’t mean to pry but I’m dying to know,” Marco said, rolling over onto his back and freeing his captive, “what happened while you were out there? You were gone for almost a whole week and no one had any idea where you were. Come to think of it, how did Levi track you down so fast?”

           Jean stoutly ignored his partner for all of thirty seconds, trying to feign sleep. When Marco poked him in the ass he growled and rolled onto his back as well, to prevent access. Resigning himself to wakefulness, he sighed and mentally traced patterns in the popcorn on the ceiling as he thought about how to begin.

           “Don’t really remember much of the first few days,” he started groggily. “I think I started walking and just kept going until I collapsed. I woke up in an ally somewhere on the other side of town. Guess I was headin’ back to the only other place I know,” he snorted. To think that he’d returned willingly to the place he hated most of all. _Desperation is the doorway to regret._

           “I stole food and water on the way, got roughed up a few times when I got caught. Some people were nice enough to just give it to me ‘cause I looked so pathetic. Took about four days but I ended up at the summer house. I didn’t know the old man sold it, though, and the people living there tried to have me arrested so I ran away. The property’s pretty big and I know my way around the servant quarters so I just hid there and stole food until Levi showed up. Don’t really know how he knew where to find me,” Jean finished, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

           Marco’s head was turned so he could watch Jean talk. Even when he finished, his audience continued to stare so long that he almost thought the freckled idiot had fallen back to sleep. He shot the other man a glare and found that he was actually still awake and didn’t look particularly pleased.

           “What,” Jean asked, annoyed.

           Marco twisted towards him enough to wrap his hand around the back of Jean’s neck and bump their foreheads together gently. He was staring directly into his partner’s eyes now and it made Jean nervous. Things were getting way too serious for this early in the morning. _I hope his morning breath isn’t horrible._ It wasn’t.

           “I want you to promise me that you will never run away from me again,” Marco pleaded. “If you don’t like something, or if you have a problem, tell me. I don’t know how many times I have to say it before you understand.”

           “Yeah … sure,” Jean said, feeling distinctly like he was a kid being reprimanded by a concerned parent. “I promise.”

           Marco finally smiled at that and Jean thought he was going to let go but the sneaky bastard captured his mouth and made Jean forget the world around him for a while. It wasn’t an open mouthed kiss but it was sweet and Marco nibbled on Jean’s lower lip a bit before breaking away. Jean thought he could spend an eternity doing that part every morning and never get tired of it. The rational side of him knew that was ridiculous but no one in love ever listened to that side of themselves. His mind, fogged by sleep and slight arousal, drifted in the warmth of the moment aimlessly until a random thought popped into his head. It wasn’t exactly profound but after having it, Jean was surprised it hadn’t come to him much sooner. After all this time, how had something so important not occurred to him before?

           “Hey, Marco,” he started with a bit more enthusiasm than he intended, “how did you get here?” Marco’s eyebrows rose bemusedly.

           “How did I … well, I sort of barged in yesterday, remember?”

           “Agh, that’s not what I meant.” Jean rubbed the side of his face in juvenile frustration and Marco grinned playfully at him.

           “You mean, how did I join the Corps?” When Jean nodded, he rolled over onto his back again and shoved a hand under his head. He drew patterns in the popcorn on the ceiling thoughtfully the same way Jean had done, unbeknownst to his companion. “It’s not a very interesting story, but I don’t mind telling you if you’re really that curious. I’ve been in the Corps for about five years now.”

           “Holy shit, five years?!” Jean sat up and shot him an incredulous stare. “You were just a kid, though, right? How does that even work?”

           “I _was_ just a kid, so it was pretty tough at first,” he said amicably. “I wasn’t the youngest to join but I was still pretty scared back then. Erwin took me in as a favor to my dad and he looked out for me for the first few years, but I was a nervous wreck up until the year Connie joined.” At the mention of the former partner’s name, Jean pouted childishly. Marco brought his free hand up to slide his fingers along Jean’s spine while he continued. “You might not like it but I was working alone until that point and Connie really helped me out. He’s a good friend, even if he gets into trouble way too much.”

           “Yeah, I get it,” Jean grumbled, but he was calmed by the touch and didn’t pursue that thorn any further. “You said you joined as a favor to your dad. Did he … was it like mine?”

           “Not really,” Marco said with a little hum, “Erwin and my dad were friends for as long as I can remember. My dad ran a little car repair garage on the edge of Maria and Rose District. My mom had died of sickness when I was a toddler and he poured his life into that shop as a way of dealing with her death. We weren’t rich but he had a gift for working with vehicles and was pretty well known for it, so we did pretty well. But, my dad was pretty selective about who he worked for. He had this sense for knowing what people were really like and if he didn’t like someone, he refused to do anything for them. Erwin got along with him really well because of that. I spent a lot of time around him as a kid because he gave my dad a lot of good business, so I got to know him really well too. I have to admit it was pretty fun seeing all the cars Erwin brought over. Some of them even had bullet holes in them, but my dad never seemed to mind.”

           “Erwin is a lot like him. He has a sense for knowing people. I think that’s why he kept coming over so much and why they got on so well,” Marco said, drifting off into a moment of introspection. “Anyways, things went on that way until just after I turned fifteen. Some big business guy from Sina came by one day with a shot up little sports car. The thing was almost totaled and had blood all over the front seat but the guy said he wanted it fixed up and heard that my dad was the only person in town good enough to do it. He even offered ten times the normal price, but my dad refused. I wasn’t there that day so I don’t know the details but Erwin told me later that he kicked the guy out saying something about how he doesn’t work with criminals who have no respect for human life over their belongings.”

           “Turns out, the guy was some low level Titan boss,” Marco said sadly, “and he didn’t take too kindly to being insulted by someone he considered lower than dirt. My dad called Erwin right after the guy left saying he thought he’d be back, but even then it was still too late. By the time I got there after school, the garage had already been taped off by the police. They said it was a gang hate crime. The whole place was shot up pretty badly and I never got to see what happened to my dad, but Erwin came and found me while I was watching them wheel the body bag into the ambulance. He said my dad had asked him to look after me because he’d pissed off some pretty dangerous people. I still remember the way Erwin looked at the scene. He was like a statue, all cold and stony on the outside, but those eyes…” Marco trailed off with a small shiver. “I’ve never seen a fire that burned like that.”

           “That guy doesn’t like the Titans, does he?” Jean had turned his head enough to watch the change in Marco’s expression as he told his story.

           “Nope,” Marco said with a little smirk, “and after everything I’ve seen, I kinda feel sorry for them. They don’t know what they’re up against.” Jean’s eyebrows had drawn down at those words and Marco cocked his head a bit at him. “What’s up?”

           “I just don’t get why you’re not more upset,” he said. “You had a great life, and those fuckers screwed it up. They killed your dad over something stupid. If it were me,” he curled his hand into a fist and stared down at it angrily. Beside him, Marco rubbed his back a bit more and smiled affectionately.

           “True, they did do something terrible to me,” he said softly, “and for a long time I was angry. But I was also very scared and weak back then. I still hate them but Erwin did a lot to help me channel that hate. He gave me a new home and took care of me. He helped me get stronger and find a purpose in life. A lot of who I am today came from him and the Corps and all the friends I have here. Without his help, I wouldn’t have survived. And I wouldn’t have met you.”

           Jean was blushing furiously now and refused to look at the other man. The hand on his back was lulling him into sleep again as he mulled over everything Marco had told him. It seemed like they had both been saved by coming here and it warmed Jean’s insides to know that he wasn’t the only one with a difficult past. Idly, he wondered how many of the others had been brought into the Corps for similar reasons. In some cases – like Eren’s – it seemed pretty obvious. As he mused, a conveniently timed stomach growl echoed in the space between them. Marco blinked in surprise at the betrayal of his own organs.

           “I suppose we’d better get up. We have a long day ahead of us and it seems like my stomach wants to be prepared for it,” he admitted with a blush. The thought of food made Jean’s stomach respond in kind and they both laughed.

           Jean rolled out of bed into the chill of his room and snatched up his bathroom supplies. He swung his door open and found a Do Not Disturb tag hanging from the outer knob that hadn’t been there the night before. There was a wrapped condom taped to it and a smiley face on the back side drawn in marker. Jean ripped it off the door and nearly tossed it into the trash before stopping himself. He considered it briefly and decided to toss it onto his bed instead. Marco watched the whole thing with open amusement.

           “Hey, you comin’?” Jean was holding up his little bucket.

           “Oh, actually that reminded me of something I forgot to take care of yesterday,” Marco said mysteriously. “You go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

           Jean was mildly disappointed at being shot down but he figured it was for the best. They had futzed around in bed long enough that getting ‘involved’ during a shower would waste too much time. Marco darted into his own room and shut the door as Jean marched almost naked down the hall. The shower he took was his fastest one on record. It might have been a little too fast because he passed Marco’s open door on the way back to his room and saw that it was empty. Jean wondered where his partner had gone off to in such a hurry this early in the morning. It turned out that he hadn’t gone very far as, once Jean was dressed and leaving, Marco burst out of his room with towel and bucket in hand. He tossed Jean an apologetic grin on his way to the showers.

           “I’ll make food,” Jean called to him and when Marco waved acknowledgement he tromped down the stairs.

           By the time Marco met him in the kitchen, he had egg and bacon sandwiches for both of them ready to go and was already half finished with his own. The two of them stuffed their faces and cleaned up, then headed out into the cold to wait for the van with five minutes to spare. As they stood side by side, Marco took hold of Jean’s hand and laced their fingers together. Jean went beet red and scowled at him in outrage. Marco wasn’t the least bit sorry as he smiled back.

           “Heichou’s orders,” he chirped as their ride rolled up.

+++++++++++

            “Oh,” Berholdt said in surprise from the passenger seat of the van, drawing Levi’s attention from the map on his screen. Next to him, Reiner leaned forward to see what his partner was looking at. His eyebrows shot up and he leaned back to look at Levi over his shoulder.

            “They’re holding hands,” he said simply and turned back to his steering wheel with a smirk.

            Levi rolled his eyes and went back to his map as the back doors opened and the world’s two biggest morons climbed in. They were indeed holding hands, although the Kirschtein boy clearly wasn’t thrilled about doing so in public. A chipper Marco saluted him and sat down on the bench, drawing his partner down with him. He had a shit eating I-told-you-so grin on his freckled face. If Levi didn’t like the kid as much as he did, he would have wiped it off with the back of his hand.

            “Angel, give me a status report on our target,” Levi said into his microphone, ignoring the two brats while the van started moving.

            “No one’s exited so far, Heichou,” Christa said into his ear, “but there was a truck that drove up and dropped off three men before dawn. They had a crate with them. I think it had weapons in it.” _Or another hostage_ , Levi thought grimly.

            “Understood, Angel. We’re on our way to your position with our two sacrificial lambs. Contact me if you see any movement.”

            “Yes, sir,” she replied and the radio went silent.

            Levi turned to face the two men sitting attentively next to him. They were in noticeably better condition than they had been yesterday and were sitting close enough together to allow their thighs to touch. Only Marco was smiling but Jean’s eyes were focused and clear of the madness that he had seen in them yesterday. It seemed that these two had finally worked out whatever kinks had formed in their relationship. Of course, that didn’t guarantee the mission’s success but it was a good start.

            “I’m glad the two of you decided to grow a pair,” he said at last and got an enjoyable rise out of the pissy one. “Get geared up and I’ll update you on the situation.” They both opened the cabinets in the lower half of the van’s wall of equipment and began to don their harnesses and weapons.

            “I’ve had Angel on lookout and I sent Beast inside to sniff around. Thanks to their overnight work we’ve confirmed that the building our target last entered is his organization’s base. Beast confirmed eight men inside and Angel spotted three more entering this morning with a large crate.” When he mentioned that last bit, both men’s heads shot up in surprise. It seemed they’d picked up on the possibilities of the crate’s contents just as quickly as Levi had.

            “That’s right. We don’t know what’s inside so unless one of you has a chance to check it, avoid doing any damage to it.” Levi handed them their earpieces and continued, “Your new objective is simple but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy. If the two of you have any unresolved issues or physical illnesses that will rear their ugly heads when you get inside, tell me now so I can send in someone else,” he warned as he looked pointedly at Jean.

            “We’re good to go, Heichou,” Jean said without skipping a beat. _Good, he’s not in pre-pubescent whiny bitch mode anymore. We might actually get this done right._

            “Very well. Your mission, should you choose to accept it,” Levi smirked at his own witty reference, “is to get in there fast, secure any hostages they have, and slaughter every last one of them.”

            Now fully outfitted and ready to move, both men nodded. The van pulled up to the curb in a middle class shopping area on the opposite end of the block from where the target building stood. As Jean and Marco hopped out they surveyed the area. Levi saw their video feeds focus on the large toy store taking up half the block ahead of them.

            “You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Jean said into his mic.

            “Looks like the place is closed,” Marco said as he was looking around at the other buildings. “Actually, all the stores around here are closed. Did you set this up, Heichou?”

            “Very good, Boy Next Door,” he praised sarcastically, “I made a few calls early this morning and may have hinted to the GMPF that there was a busted gas line in the sewers under our feet. They sealed the area off before any early bird shoppers or store owners showed up.”

            Levi rather enjoyed toying with the local authorities. He had no real faith in their ability to get anything meaningful accomplished. At least this time they had successfully prevented letting any potential casualties get in the way of the operation. He was watching his two go-getters move down the block to the glass double doors when the van’s back doors opened again. Ymir hopped in and slammed them shut, causing him to wince.

            “I thought I told you not to slam those,” he hissed with a hand over the microphone.

            She shrugged and flopped down onto the bench lazily, yawning wide into the back of her hand. Levi went back to his observations. Marco was in the process of helping Jean secure the front doors with oversized plastic zip ties. They pulled three of them tight in different places and followed this up by shoving thick wooden wedges under each of the outward swinging doors. This done, they moved around to the building’s one rear entrance. They checked it and found it was locked so Marco pulled his slender switchblade out of its case and flipped it open. He slid the blade into the slot of the lock under the door handle and shoved with the heel of his hand while twisting it sharply. The cheap metal of the lock burst apart as he forced it to turn. Now having access, the two men moved silently inside.

            The video feed went momentarily dim with the lack of lighting. There were low sliding and scuffling noises coming through their audio feeds once the door was shut and he heard Marco whisper loudly into his earpiece that both exits were now sealed.

            “Understood, move in,” Levi said. “Angel, how are you holding up?”

            “I’m fine, Heichou,” Christa said. She sounded tired but she didn’t slur.

            “They’re inside, you can come back now.”

            “Sir, I’d like to swing around and watch the front if it’s alright with you.”

            “Admirable, but I don’t want you to push yourself too hard. You’ve done enou-“ he stopped the second he heard gunshots popping through the radio. The assault had officially begun. “Just get back here, Angel,” he finished and watched the video feeds intently.

           Ymir had gotten to her feet and was hovering behind him, watching from over his shoulder. Reiner and Bertholdt had their heads turned so they could watch the feed from the front seats as they listened in over their own earpieces. Levi watched Marco and Jean move through the building together methodically. They halted and assessed each situation and wordlessly communicated with each other on what action to take. So far they had managed to down four members of the enemy’s team without breaking a sweat.

            Levi had to admit as he watched them, they worked well together. Their fighting styles were very different but their strengths and weakness fit together without overlapping so that they were able to compensate for each other in almost any situation. Jean had a tendency to get nervous and go rushing in recklessly. Marco compensated by holding them back until just the right moment, unleashing Jean to great effect and taking the distracted enemy down while his partner stirred the pot. Marco had a tendency to be overly cautious and let good opportunities slip by. Jean compensated for this by jumping on them instead and trusting his partner to watch his back in case something went wrong. The trust they had in each other was their greatest advantage, by far. They were still awkward in their maneuvers because they hadn’t had as much time to work together as the other pairs, but they were able to sense one another with an uncanny precision. This allowed them to move around each other without stepping on any toes. Levi was honestly impressed at the improvement. Behind him, Ymir whistled.

            “Those two are showing us all up,” she said with a crooked grin. “Who knew they’d be that good together.” It hadn’t been a question but Levi answered it anyways.

            “Erwin knew,” he said, wearing a small smile as he enjoyed the show.

            “Hah? He never even met the kid, how the hell could he have known they’d be so fuckin’ good?”

            “They don’t call him the Strategist for nothing,” Reiner piped in from the front, earning him a glare from Ymir.

            By now the two men had cleared the building of all foes except for one man. It was their original target, the foul mouthed janitor imposter from yesterday. Levi watched Marco effortlessly disarm and corner the man with his gun while Jean pried the top off the crate they had finally found. Inside the crate huddled a small boy in dirty and torn clothing. His mouth was gagged and his hands and feet were bound. He trembled as he looked up at Jean with brown eyes gone wide as saucers.

            “Only one hostage,” Jean called over the radio. “He’s kinda beat up but he seems to be fine. Hey, it’s okay kid,” he said soothingly as he reached into the crate, “we’re here to take you home.”

            “Good work, Prince,” Levi said and really meant it this time. “Bring him back to command as soon as you two are done. Boy Next Door, wrap it up and watch his back.” Jean took the kid in his arms and headed out to leave Marco with his prey.

            “Got it, Heichou,” Marco said and addressed the man cowering at his feet. His voice came through the radio cheerfully, every word clear. “We meet again, Mister Janitor. Remember what you said to my partner yesterday about butt fucking you and taking you to dinner?” In Marco’s video feed, the man grimaced and nodded shakily.

            “Well, just so you know,” Marco said low in his throat, his voice having changed completely. The man’s eyes widened in terror at what he must have seen on Marco’s face. “The only one who’ll ever get that honor is me,” he said with succinct finality and pulled the trigger, splattering gore all over the wall.

            If Levi had been a lesser man, he might have lost his breakfast at the display. The others in the van had slightly ill looks on their faces. It was easy to forget the _real_ reason why they had given Marco his particular call sign, and why he had taken so long to find a suitable partner. Levi smirked as he watched the freckled ‘angel’ catch up to his partner and chatter amicably to the child. The sobbing boy calmed instantly as they wove their way back out of the store’s bowels. Once again, his old friend had been right even after Levi had been certain that these two would fall apart.

            _Looks like you won again, Erwin. Don’t make a habit of this. I hate having to wear that goddamn speedo._

+++++++++++

            The mission had been a complete success. The child that they had recovered was on his way back to his parents and Marco was now standing in Levi’s office with Jean at his side waiting to be debriefed. He had caught the satisfied look on his commander’s face when they returned to the van to greet their comrades. There was no way Levi could justify breaking them apart and sending Jean away after their stellar performance. The man himself strolled into the room with Erwin on his heels. Levi had a sour tilt to his mouth that might have been a pout if Marco believed the man was capable of such an expression. He took his seat behind the desk and leaned back with his legs crossed. Erwin rested his thigh against the edge of the desk and placed one hand on his hip, brimming with confidence and – if Marco could believe it – victory.

            Upon seeing Erwin for what Marco thought was the first time, Jean perked up in surprised recognition. He had encountered the man somewhere else and it was obvious that he hadn’t known who Erwin had been at the time. Their boss caught his scrutiny and smiled pleasantly.

            “A pleasure to see you again, young Kirschtein,” he said as Jean’s jaw dropped.

            “You, you’re –“ Jean began but was cut off by Levi clearing his throat.

            “I won’t beat around the bush,” Levi said with grudging respect, “you both did better than _most_ of us expected.” The emphasis wasn’t lost on anyone in the room. “In light of this, you have been given permission to transition to practice missions starting from tomorrow, until your graduation from training one month from now. Erwin,” he indicated the man with a wave of his hand, “who I believe Kirschtein hasn’t _officially_ met yet, has one more thing to say to you both.”

            At his introduction, Erwin straightened and addressed them.

            “I don’t normally do this, but thanks to your performance earlier today I have decided to make you a deal. Continue to do as well as you did today, even half as well, and your official assignment as partners is guaranteed without need of your graduation review.”

           The announcement had both of them drawing a breath. He then stepped over to Jean, who had been the closest to him. He placed a hand firmly on the man’s shoulder and addressed him as he would a good friend’s son, all warm tones and polite words.

            “Jean, I’m glad you joined our family,” he said sincerely. “I’ll admit that I didn’t quite know what to expect when your father asked me to take you in. Regardless of his reasons, he made a good decision. I hope you continue to show us your true worth from here on out.”

           His eyes had a curious flicker in them and Jean was blushing profusely. He looked like a child that had been caught stealing candy. Next, Erwin came over to Marco and repeated the action of placing a hand on his shoulder. This time, Erwin addressed him as he would an old friend, with a warm smile and informal words.

           “Marco, it’s great that you finally found where you belong. I’ve been waiting a long time to see your other half,” he said with a glance at Jean, now blushing even harder. “Your father would be pleased to see how far you’ve come. Make us proud.” Then they were dismissed.

\---------------

            They were back in the apartment house marching triumphantly down the hall towards their rooms. Jean was ahead of Marco by a few paces and seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. He couldn’t fathom why. When they reached their doors Marco grabbed the handle and was caught completely off guard when Jean snatched his wrist and spun him around to shove his back against the wood. Jean assaulted his lips hungrily and slotted one slightly slimmer thigh between Marco’s legs. His hands were clawing at Marco’s shirt in an attempt to find their way underneath. When they did, Marco gasped as Jean raked his fingernails lightly up his sides and brushed the pads of his thumbs over Marco’s nipples. A hot tongue found its way into his mouth. As Jean pressed against him, Marco felt his partner’s raging erection stab him in the hip.

            Jean’s enthusiasm was bowling him over like a thin reed in a hurricane. He normally wouldn’t hesitate to let things continue but they were in the middle of the hall. It was an unspoken rule among the residents to keep any explicit activities behind closed doors. _Or curtains_ , Marco thought. He took Jean’s wrists in his hands and halted their exploration, breaking away from their kiss long enough to speak.

            “We can’t do this here,” he gasped. His own erection was straining painfully against his pants. Jean pouted back at him. _Oh god, I want this._ “I’m disgusting after that mission. Why don’t we take this somewhere cleaner?” Jean’s stare was more than convincing enough.

            They broke apart in unison to grab their supplies and met in the hall again seconds later. This time Marco took the lead, snatching Jean’s arm and pulling him hell bent for the bathroom. Fortunately there was no one inside and they stripped down completely. Marco was the first to reach full nudity and he gave Jean a helping hand in getting the rest of his clothing off while taking the opportunity to taste every inch of skin he could reach with his mouth. The sounds Jean made whenever Marco’s freckled skin touched his were delicious. Marco decided he could drink them in every day for the rest of his life.

            “Shower,” Jean gasped when Marco bit him lightly just below his ear. He was pleased to find out that the real Jean was just as sensitive in that spot as Imaginary Jean had been.

            The two of them waddled into one of the shower stalls like some strange four legged monstrosity, arms and legs tangled comically. Someone managed to turn the water on and the cold spray hit them both, causing an instant shriek from Jean. They broke apart to escape the water’s icy fingers while it slowly warmed up. Marco took this as a chance to get a good look at his lover’s body. He had seen Jean naked once before and mostly naked many times. However, seeing the same thing while knowing that you can _have it_ as well as _look at it_ gives a person a completely different perspective. Since the first shower they had ever taken together in the locker room stalls, Jean had added considerable weight in the form of lean muscle. He was still a little slimmer than Marco but that was due mostly to their natural builds.

           Marco found that he thoroughly enjoyed looking at his partner’s naked form. Everything appealed to him; the smooth definition in his chest and limbs, the way his collar bones stuck out like they were asking for attention, the dimples on his lower back just above the curve of his ass, and especially his neck. Marco had a terrible time keeping his mouth off of it. It certainly didn’t help that he enjoyed the taste of Jean’s skin on his tongue either. The water had finally warmed up enough for them to enjoy it. Marco closed the distance between them and joined their mouths again. He smoothed his hands down Jean’s back, bringing his fingers to rest over those dimples. He circled them with his fingertips while Jean took a hold of his hips and ground his erection against Marco’s stomach. His partner’s moan vibrated against his lips and he broke away to press his mouth to the other side of that wonderful neck. He wanted to hear Jean’s noises, not feel them.

           Jean was rutting against him now and Marco brought a hand around to encircle both their erections. Automatically, Jean did the same with one of his own hands. The friction between them was blindingly pleasurable and Jean was making small whimpering sounds whenever he thrust against his partner’s cock. Marco was matching his rhythm and timing so that they could enjoy the most movement.

           “Jean,” he panted pleadingly, “call for me. You make such beautiful noises but,” he gasped as the pleasure mounted, “I need to hear your voice.”

           “What,” Jean groaned hoarsely, “do you want me – nngh – to say? Ahh!”

           “Tell me who it is, Jean. Tell me who it is that takes you apart.”

           “You really – ah! – have an obsession with that, don’t you?”

           Jean’s thrusts were growing erratic and Marco knew he was close. It was a shame they couldn’t drag this out but both of them were worked up beyond the point of control now. All that was left was a blinding lust that consumed them and left no room for patience or rationality. The tightening in his groin signaled his own impending release. He lifted his mouth to Jean’s ear and growled in his most commanding tone, the fingers of his free hand digging into Jean’s hip.

           “Tell me!”

           “Ah, fuck,” Jean shuddered violently, “Marco!”

           Jean spilled his seed between them and nearly slipped in the process. Marco’s grip on his hip kept them together as he reached his climax a few seconds later with a feral growl and fell back against the cool tile wall on shaky legs. Jean went with him and leaned heavily against him to keep from sliding boneless to the floor. They came down from their euphoria with heaving chests, Jean’s head resting against Marco’s shoulder. As their frantic breathing slowed, Marco felt Jean slide a hand up his arm and begin to trace patterns on the skin of his shoulders. He thought he felt the other man’s finger outline constellations in different places along his arm. The movement lulled him into a trance and he let his eyes drift shut, enjoying the feeling of it.

           “It’s the freckles,” Jean mumbled randomly, drawing him out of the trance.

           “Huh?”

           “The reason I can’t stop looking at you,” he clarified. “I finally figured it out. It’s the freckles.” Jean said it like it was the most brilliant thing that had ever come out of his mouth.

           Marco was dumbstruck. It was the silliest thing Jean had ever said but at the same time it was absolutely the most endearing thing anyone had ever told him. He couldn’t help himself. He started laughing. At first it was a few tired huffs but it quickly gained strength and became an all out guffaw. Jean had regained his own footing now and stepped back far enough to let the water rinse away the remnants of their combined fluids on his stomach. He seemed mildly offended by Marco’s reaction.

           “Oi, quit it,” he barked, cheeks turning pink. “It wasn’t that funny, asshole. You might think it’s stupid but I thought it was fuckin’ great.”

           “I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” Marco said as he wiped tears from his eyes. He was grinning like a fool now. “I think it’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I also think it’s not exactly your typical post-coital conversation topic.”

           “What the hell else am I gonna talk about while we’re naked in a shower together,” Jean groused, even more embarrassed by the compliment as he grabbed for the bar of soap in the bucket he’d dropped just outside the curtain.

           Marco immersed himself in the spray to rinse off in turn while Jean soaped up. The stall was fairly small so they were both a bit cramped now that they weren’t all over each other.

           “And anyways,” Jean continued, “I know I’m inexperienced but I’m not stupid. That didn’t really count as coi-whatever you said.” He turned his back as Marco took the soap from him and let the other man scrub him down.

           “True, that wasn’t actually sex,” Marco agreed. “I don’t think you’re ready for that just yet, and before you jump down my throat,” he preempted Jean’s protest, “there’s a lot you need to learn about it before we go that far. It doesn’t matter whether it’s between the opposite sex or the same, especially between men. The first time hurts. A lot.” He finished his ministrations and handed the soap back as an excuse to encircled Jean in his arms and rest his forehead against the back of his partner’s head.

           “We have all the time in the world, Jean. I promise you we’ll get to that soon enough but I want your first time to be a good one. Believe me when I say that if we don’t do this the right way, you won’t want to do it ever again.”

           The raw affection in his words must have hit Jean in the right spot because he brought his hand up and traced his fingertips across Marco’s cheek. He slowly spun in the embrace so that their foreheads met and wrapped his arms around Marco’s midsection. Rich brown eyes met hazel, a loving smile met a cynical smirk.

           “Fine, I get it, Mister Responsibility,” Jean quipped playfully. “You’re always right anyways. I’ll follow your lead for now. But when you’re done being all considerate and shit, I don’t wanna see you holding back anymore. You promised you wouldn’t underestimate me so I’m holding you to that. I can take whatever you can dish out, got it?” The challenge in Jean’s eyes lit a fire in Marco’s soul.

           “Got it,” he grinned. _And boy will you get it before this is all said and done._


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is impatient, Jean makes some bold moves, Marco makes one too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand here it is! The final chapter! Thank you all for coming with me on this journey and for your praise and comments. I will forever be in your debt. I know this fic isn't as popular as some of the other wonderful works out there but I appreciate the love it has received no less than I would if it were anywhere nearer to that caliber of writing.
> 
> Since I did end up one chapter short and the smut isn't quite where I wanted it to progress to yet, I will be adding an epilogue. I hope I haven't disappointed anyone too horribly. :x

            “Is it here yet?”

            “For the twelfth fuckin’ time, no it’s not, Marco. And if you ask me one more time, I’m gonna shove it up your ass and invite your boyfriend to the spelunking party when you go digging for it,” a squinty eyed Ymir growled at the speckled man from the other side of her open bedroom doorway.

            In the hall, Marco’s face fell in such comically dramatic disappointment that she looked like she wanted to smack him upside the head. Rather than resort to her default violence, she rubbed her eyes with a thumb and finger and sighed. Marco looked up hopefully.

            “Look, man,” she said in exasperation, “it’s only been a few days since you asked me for it and at the time, we all thought that guy was a goner. I’m glad you two made up and all and I know this isn’t the most complicated request, but it’s still a custom order. It’s gonna take a little while, especially considering the size you want. I’ll get it to you as soon as it gets here, okay,” she pleaded.

            “Right. Sorry, Ymir. I know it takes time,” Marco said apologetically as he studied his shuffling feet, “It’s just that, well, I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while now and when Jean disappeared, I almost gave up on the idea. I guess now that I have him back, I can’t stop thinking about losing him again over something stupid.” He ran his fingers through his hair absently and looked up again, giving Ymir his biggest and sappiest puppy eye attack.

            “I don’t want him getting the wrong idea again before I have a chance to do this and I…” he trailed off as a furious blush tinted his freckled cheeks, “I w-want to make sure everyone else knows that he’s … um,” he was cut off by Ymir holding up a hand.

            “That’s more than I needed to know,” she groaned and rubbed her sleepy eyes again. “I get what you’re sayin’, alright? You don’t have to spell it out. I’ll call the guy and ask him about it later. And anyways, don’t you have a mission today or something?”

            “Ah, yeah,” Marco said in mild surprise.

            He did in fact have another practice mission today with Jean, for which he was going to be late if he didn’t hurry. The longer he stayed here questioning Ymir, the more suspicious Jean might get about these little early side trips he’d been making since that morning after their botched first trial mission several days ago. And it was imperative that Jean not find out about what he was doing here, at least not until the right time. Marco bid Ymir a swift farewell and fled downstairs to meet up with his waiting partner in the kitchen for some breakfast. He was spurred along by the annoyed slam of the woman’s bedroom door. He really was risking his neck by waking her this early for the umpteenth time thanks to his lack of patience in this one area, but he knew it would be worth it. He hummed cheerily to himself while he bounced into the kitchen and received a pancake to the head in protest of his good mood.

            “Ow! What was that for,” he whined, catching the offending saucer of spongy goodness and, upon inspecting it for damage, decided it was still edible and took a bite.

            “Too early for that shit,” Jean grumbled as he flipped the three pancakes still in his skillet.

           He grumbled even more when Marco meandered over and gave him a pancake flavored kiss on the cheek in retaliation. Marco slid his arms around Jean’s waist and rested his chin on the man’s shoulder to watch him work. After a few of Jean’s failed attempts to shoo him off, he eventually left on his own and hoisted himself up to sit on the island in the middle of the kitchen, getting flour on his rear end for his effort.

           “Did you read the mission files,” Marco asked.

           “Yeah, nothing fancy,” Jean replied, piling the pancakes onto a plate and pouring the rest of the batter into four circles. He handed the plate over and Marco took it readily. “Some shit about staking out a potential weapons dealer, right? Didn’t sound too interesting so I didn’t pay much attention,” he snorted dismissively.

           “Well, that’s a shame,” Marco said passively, “since it seems like you missed the part about us having to spend an entire night alone together in the hotel across the street.”

           “Wha-,” Jean choked and the pancake he had just flipped landed face down on the skillet with a loud _plop_. When he looked over at Marco, his partner was busy stuffing his face and studiously ignoring the glare he was getting.

           “Oh,” he continued casually, “also, we’ve been forbidden from doing anything other than what the mission calls for while we’re there.” At this, Marco looked up and smiled brightly at Jean. “Your pancakes are going to burn.”

           Jean jerked and returned his attention to flipping the rest of his now decidedly over-browned breakfast. He set them on his plate and carried them over to eat next to his partner on the island. He did not look one bit pleased about the prospects of the next twenty-four hours. Marco watched him eat out of the corner of his eye and thought about the last time they had done anything together as lovers. Last he could recall, it had been the shower incident and he was a little disappointed that they hadn’t done more since then. He had been avoiding getting too involved for fear of taking things too far and seriously hurting Jean, but it was almost impossible to keep his hands off. Tonight’s mission was guaranteed to be just as hard on him as it would be on Jean. It gave him a small amount of satisfaction to know that he wasn’t the only one suffering, cruel as that may be.

           “So, no doing stuff? Like, you know,” Jean mumbled suddenly around a mouthful of food, catching Marco off-guard.

           “Stuff,” Marco asked curiously, tilting his head.

           “Yeah, like what we did the other night in the shower,” Jean supplied with a furious blush.

           “What do you mean? Washing each other’s backs,” Marco continued, feigning utter innocence.

           “No, dammit, you know what I mean. Don’t be a punk,” Jean bit out and glared at him until Marco threw up his hands in surrender and laughed. He enjoyed making his lover get flustered like this far too much.

            “Oh, right, that. No, none of that. At least, not if it distracts us too much from the job,” Marco said with a sweet little smile. Jean swallowed his last bite and eyed him nervously.

            “Yeah, okay,” he said warily. “Guess I should’ve paid closer attention to the file.” He glanced at the oven clock and frowned. “We gotta get going. Levi’ll get pissy if we’re not out of here soon.”

            “Right,” Marco said and hopped down, patting his butt so that small puffs of white flour filled the air around him. Jean snorted a laugh as he took his plate to set in the sink. “I’ll go get the car and meet you in front.”

            Jean nodded at him and Marco left to round up the vehicle they had been given permission to take for today’s assignment. On his way down the sidewalk to the garage, he contemplated exactly how much trouble they could get into if they let themselves get out of hand tonight. He thought he could bring himself to live with the consequences. Tonight would probably turn out to be far more entertaining than either of them expected.

+++++++++++

            “Still nothing,” Jean said with a huff and threw himself backwards across the twin bed on his side of the hotel room.

            On the other bed, Marco was reading a book and paying him not one bit of attention. It irked him. He wanted the man to look at him, acknowledge his presence in some way. He knew Marco was only acting this way because they were supposed to stay focused for this mission. But oh, how he wanted to rile his partner up. _How dare you stay so calm again. It’s always me who loses it._ Jean growled internally and looked at the digital clock on dresser nearby. It was getting close to midnight and Marco would have to take over for his turn manning the window when the hour was up. Maybe when they switched, Jean could go let some of his pent up stress out in the bathroom with the door cracked so Marco would have to listen to every little breath and noise. He liked listening, the bastard, and if he was going to be such a frustrating jerk, Jean would be glad to give him one hell of a show he couldn’t participate in.

           As Jean sat there and let those thoughts stew, his mind became filled with images of Marco spying on him while he took care of his business and suddenly he found himself getting hot and bothered at the prospect. He brought one hand down to rest on his lower belly and tapped his fingers absently against the small expanse of exposed skin where his shirt had ridden up when he flopped back. After a few seconds, the tapping became the slow swirl of his fingertips which eventually led to those fingers sliding up under his shirt to scratch at his chest lightly and expose even more skin. That was when he picked it up, the slight tingle across the back of his neck that warned him of being watched, and a new idea popped into his head.

           Brimming with mischief, Jean sat up and went back to the long shafted binoculars attached to the tripod in front of him that he was supposed to be checking every few minutes. He placed his eyes to the device and let his fingers slip under the waistband of his pants. He slid his hand down and stroked himself, his shaft growing hard the more he held onto the image of Marco spying on him hungrily. Unconsciously, his mouth dropped open slightly and his hips shifted, a tiny gasp escaping when his erection throbbed in his grip. The second that gasp escaped, he heard movement on the other side of the room and in the next instant there was a warm gush of air against his ear and a heavy weight settled behind him on the bed without touching.

           “What do you think you’re doing, Jean,” Marco hummed curiously into his ear. There was no accusation in his tone but Jean blushed guiltily anyways.

           “Taking care of business,” he replied, piqued by the petulance in his own words that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. “Don’t mind me. Just go back to your damn book.”

           “Oh, I don’t mind you,” Marco said, “but doing this while you’re on shift isn’t the best idea. You could get distracted this way.”

           “Yeah? Well it’s a little late for that now,” Jean snapped back, pretending to fiddle with the focus knobs on the equipment. “What the fuck else am I gonna do?”

           He had yet to remove his eyes from the binoculars and damned if he had any idea what was actually going on in the building they were supposed to be watching. He was way too focused on feeling Marco’s presence and listening to his voice, but he would play it off as disinterest for as long as he could get away with it. He continued to stroke himself and pretended to ignore his partner until he felt a hand still his movements. He almost lost his concentration and looked away but Marco spoke urgently in his ear again and he froze immediately.

           “I’ll take care of it for you, so keep your eyes on the target,” Marco breathed, “understand? Don’t look away until I’m done.”

           Jean swallowed thickly and nodded once, keeping his eyes glued to the view of the building across the way. He felt the weight lift from behind him and heard Marco come around and duck down to slide in between his knees. Hands pushed his thighs further apart and a moment later his pants were unbuttoned and the zipper was being pulled down slowly. Only, the hands were still on his thighs. Suddenly he wanted very badly to look. Marco, seeming to sense his desire, squeezed his legs in warning before they removed themselves and pulled him free of the confines of his clothing. He was trembling with need now and jerked his hips a bit when one of those hands wrapped around him. Marco gave him a few brisk pumps and then the head of his cock was surrounded by warmth and wetness and Jean forgot how to think, let alone see.

_Oh my fuck, his mouth is … it’s … god help me._ He closed his eyes and panted as Marco continued to take him in, a wet squirming length of tongue sliding along the underside of his cock to about half way down. Jean twisted his fingers in the covers and tried not to thrust into his partner’s mouth but it was just too hard and his hips jerked once, nearly choking the man. Marco had to position himself and his free hand in order to prevent Jean from doing it again, lest this end badly for both of them. Once he had Jean safely stilled, he continued his oral ministrations, pulling back with a small amount of suction to swirl his tongue around the head. He began a bobbing rhythm involving the combination of his mouth and hand, tracing every vein and contour, working Jean’s length as best he could.

           Jean had no basis for how skilled Marco was but it didn’t matter. The heat and wetness and friction were almost too much for him to handle. He had thought that having Marco’s hand on him was amazing but _this_ took it to a whole new level. He was panting openly now, small moans escaping his throat whenever Marco’s tongue flicked the tip. He brought a hand up to fist loosely in his partner’s dark hair and shuddered when the resulting moan vibrated against his skin. With a surge of ecstasy he felt his release come on and he pulled at Marco’s hair reflexively, trying to warn him. Marco, however, brushed it off with his other hand and hummed against him. With a cry, Jean came into his mouth, cheeks burning with embarrassment as Marco accepted all of it and swallowed before releasing him.

           After a few moments, Jean leaned back and looked down at the man between his legs. His freckled face was flush with intense arousal and fascination. Marco met his gaze as he wiped his mouth and smiled, standing up and indicating the digital clock with a thumb.

           “It’s a few minutes past,” he said casually, as though he hadn’t just given someone a blowjob and was now sporting the mother of all crotch tents. “Time to switch out.” There was a mysterious gleam in his eye and it took Jean a minute for his sluggish thoughts to catch on.

           “Oh,” he said when he finally understood.

           He fixed himself and got to his feet so that Marco could take over his spot. As soon as his partner sat down, Jean slid between his legs and Marco raised his eyebrows in surprise.

           “That’s not exactly what I meant,” he said as Jean’s fingers argued with his zipper. Jean paused and looked up at him, confused.

           “But, I thought,” he said hesitantly, “you wanted me to do the same favor for you.”

           “Well, I was going to take care of it myself,” Marco said with a deep shade of red on his cheeks, “since I’m pretty sure you’ve never done it before. I didn’t think you’d like it so…” He stopped when he caught the challenge in Jean’s eyes. “But, if you want to learn,” he added hastily, “I don’t mind teaching you!”

           The crooked grin Jean flashed was more than convincing enough. That evening, Jean learned yet another lesson in training and by the end of the night, Marco discovered that his lover’s aptitude for picking up on new things was still just as sharp as ever. By the end of the night, Jean discovered a whole new range of noises Marco could make when he did new and interesting things with his tongue. They even managed to confirm their intelligence information afterwards and complete the mission.

\---------------

            Frustrating moments aside, the rest of the month of trial missions passed swiftly for Jean. The days were full of action and intrigue one minute, and boring surveillance the next. The nights were full of time spent with his partner in either of their rooms, though they didn’t always take advantage of the intimacy. When they did, they never went further than hands or mouths for the first few weeks. Marco claimed that this was a critical time and doing anything more could risk hurting Jean and affecting his performance on missions. But Marco also explained a few things about what it would be like when they finally did go all the way. From what he learned, Jean was glad he’d waited.

            It wasn’t like he was afraid of trying it out. He’d felt plenty of pain before and the thought of having the other man’s dick in a place it shouldn’t normally go didn’t really bother him. At least, not if it really turned out to be as pleasurable as his partner promised it could be. What made him hesitate was his fear of the unknown. After all, as knowledgeable as he seemed to be, Marco admitted that he’d never gone that far with another man before. What if it didn’t work the way Marco said it would? What if something went wrong? What if he really did end up hating it and never wanted to do it again? Would Marco hate him if he swore it off? And why the hell was he so averse to the idea of doing the same to his freckled lover? He felt it would take a long time for him to become comfortable with asking Marco to let him “top,” as the other man put it. With all of this on his mind, he finally managed to corner his partner one evening a few days before their final trial mission.

           They were on Marco’s bed and he was planted between his lover’s legs in the process of removing Jean’s pants, cock already hard and waiting eagerly to be released. He had his fingers tangled in Marco’s dark hair as the other man dragged his pants and boxers down his legs to discard them. He slid back up to press a kiss to the weeping head and felt Jean tug at his hair lightly. He lifted his big brown eyes questioningly.

           “I want you to try it,” Jean said, giving him a resolute look to prove that he wasn’t going to back down this time.

           Marco held his gaze for a long time and Jean was afraid he was going to stop for the night when he got up from between his legs.

           “Wait there,” he said as he dug through one of his drawers and pulled out a bottle. Returning to kneel between Jean’s legs, he uncapped it and looked at his partner again. “If you’re sure about this, I won’t go all way but I can at least introduce you to how it feels.”

           “I’m sure,” Jean said with a swallow. His voice was firm but he felt a flutter in his stomach as he watched Marco squeeze a liberal amount of lubricant onto his fingers.

           “I told you before, but I’ll say it again. It’s going to hurt no matter how slowly I do it. If it gets to be too much, just tell me and I’ll stop.” Marco gave him a gentle smile and lowered himself between Jean’s thighs. He lifted one leg and hooked it over his shoulder as he spread his partner wide. Jean was blushing red to the ears after being so completely exposed.

           Marco began by taking hold of Jean’s erection and slipping his mouth over the head. He used his hand to pump the base as he worked the tip with his lips and tongue. Jean was so wrapped up in the pleasure that he didn’t notice Marco coating his entrance with lubricant. When the first digit slid inside, however, he sure as hell _did_ notice. He gasped at the strange sensation, expecting to feel horribly crippling pain. He found instead that as Marco’s finger slid further in, it was no worse than being mildly uncomfortable. The pain didn’t start until Marco slid the second finger in. It began as a burning sensation that slowly built as the fingers scissored and stretched the tight ring of muscles. Marco continued to work his cock so that the pleasure balanced out some of the pain but it was still getting hard to concentrate. At some point his discomfort must have become a concern because Marco stopped everything to gain his attention.

           “Jean, breathe slowly and try to relax. The more you tense up, the more it hurts. If you relax, it’ll eventually go away.”

           “Ggh, I’m … fine,” Jean ground out, eyes squeezed shut.

           “Look at me, Jean,” Marco ordered and Jean did so. “Breathe. Slow and deep. That’s it.” He began pumping Jean again with his hand when Jean followed his instructions.

           Now that he wasn’t straining against the sensation, he found that he really could relax. He had arched his back painfully before but he eased himself down and kept his attention focused on his partner. When his muscles had relaxed enough, Marco added a third finger and Jean grunted. There was more pain but it subsided much more quickly now that he was getting the hang of dealing with it. Then something new and different happened.

           During his movements, Marco had been searching for something inside of Jean. His longest digit finally brushed against it and Jean shuddered, a sudden spark of pleasure shooting through his groin and up his spine. _What the hell was that?_ Jean’s eyes had gone wide and he had given a soft shuddering cry at the surprising sensation. Marco realized what he’d found and smiled a very predatory smile that made Jean’s cock throb in his grip.

           “Here we go,” his freckled partner said and took Jean’s head in his mouth again.

           His fingers continued to pump and stretch him and he pressed against the spot that he had discovered in time with each stroke. He couldn’t quite hit it every time but whenever he did, Jean’s vision filled with sparks and he found it difficult to breathe. Jean was so wrapped up in the overwhelming pleasure that he had arched his back again and spread his legs as wide as they would go. His hands clenched the sheets beside him and his head was thrown back, mouth agape. Wanton moans tore free of his throat as his hips moved to meet the motion of Marco’s fingers both inside him and out. Marco was watching as if it were the most beautiful sight he’d ever had the grace to witness.

           It didn’t take very long for Jean to reach his limit. One particularly long tongue stroke, one particularly deep brush against his prostate, and he was crying out as he spilled into Marco’s mouth. Marco accepted all of him and swallowed after he was spent and lying defeated on the bed, chest heaving. Jean felt Marco slip his fingers out and get up to find a hand towel. He returned with it and wiped Jean as best as he could. He noticed that Marco had a sizeable tent in his own pants and felt a momentary pang of guilt.

           “I should take care of that,” he mumbled. Jean was more tired than he had ever been after any of their previous activities. Marco chuckled at him and rearranged his limbs so that Jean was positioned more comfortably for the purpose of sleep.

           “You’ve been through enough for tonight,” he said with a kiss to his partner’s forehead. “Go ahead and get some rest. You’re going to be sore in the morning so you’ll need it. I’ll take care of myself just this once.”

           Marco disappeared, presumably to clean himself up and take care of his unfinished business. Jean drifted to sleep with the thought that if he could feel that kind of pleasure again, any amount of pain would be worth it. He woke briefly some indeterminate amount of time later when Marco returned to lay beside him and nuzzle his hair. Marco whispered into his ear as he slowly returned to unconsciousness and he would later wonder if he hadn’t just dreamt it.

           “Good night, Jean. When you graduate a few days from now, I’ll have a surprise for you so look forward to it.”

\---------------

            Those few days couldn’t go by fast enough. He _had_ been sore the morning after that first experience with almost going all the way. To Marco’s chagrin, however, the soreness had been minor and barely interfered with his daily activities. Jean chocked it up to being tougher than he looked, as he always did with situations like these. He never had stayed sick or injured for very long in the past. Their final mission had been more of a test of patience than skill. They were assigned to tracking a shady lawyer around town over the course of several days in order to gather information about his whereabouts for the client. It was strictly an observational assignment with no contact with the target whatsoever. It hadn’t been easy chasing the bastard all over town but he and Marco had been successful in avoiding detection and had collected a bloody wealth of information on the idiot. They handed in their results to Levi personally on the morning of the last day of Jean’s training on the last day of February. Levi flipped through the stack of notes and nodded once, setting it aside to address them directly.

            “Well, this is it,” he said casually. “I’ll have a talk with Erwin just for formality’s sake but other than that, I want both of you to report to the gym at six tonight. It’s a tradition to give the announcement there. I’ll have your official call sign and partner assignment waiting for you. Dismissed.”

            Jean met Marco’s glance as they left the office and they both grinned. _I did it. We did it. I’m finally going to prove to that old bastard that I’m worth something._ Jean’s heart soared at the thought of bringing Marco with him when he finally walked into his father’s office and layed it on him like he had intended to do from the start. The old man would never treat him like a burden again after today. Not to mention, he had the best partner in the entire world to stand beside him. _Somehow, it all worked out._        He was antsy for the rest of the day as Marco followed him around and spread the word about tonight’s event. There wasn’t a single Corps member that didn’t congratulate him on making it to the big leagues. He got hearty slaps on the back from Ymir and Reiner, handshakes and well wishes from their gentler counterparts. Armin patted his arm and congratulated him enthusiastically. Eren gave him a grudging punch in the shoulder which he gladly returned. Even Annie and Mikasa gave him a monotone “Good job, horse face” in unison.

           A little later, Connie showed up with Sasha long enough to offer their congratulatory words as well. Petra had even stopped by to thank him for all the help he’d done with cooking and give him her favorite measuring cup as a graduation gift. Jean was nearly moved to tears by her great sacrifice and promised he would look after it as though it were his own child. Through all of it Marco stood beside him, beaming with pride but silent. Jean was too busy talking to others or preparing for the event to stop and ask him if something was wrong. He would just have to trust that Marco would bring it up when they had a breather. When it finally came time for Jean to head over to the appointed meeting place, he met up with his partner in the hall between their rooms. They had both dressed themselves in their field uniforms, including the straps and weapons they had brought with them after their mission earlier, but Marco was wearing a different shirt. It was the same shirt the rest of the Corps members wore; a white, long sleeve top, but it had a green shield shaped patch on the shoulder bearing one white wing crossed over one black wing.

           Jean knew he owned one but had never seen him wear it until now. He ran his fingers over the design while Marco watched, a strange sort of familiarity coming over him the more he studied it. Now that he had a close up view, he had the distinct impression that he had seen this emblem somewhere before other than on the shirts of the other Corps members. Vague emotions began to rise up in his chest and bubble in the base of his throat as he traced the wings with his fingertips. Awe came first, followed by cold fear, and then a dire sense of urgency, as though there was somewhere he desperately needed to be. Then his throat closed against a painful sense of intense sadness and loss that he had no rational explanation for.

           Marco must have mistaken the dark expression on his features for something like jealousy because he rested a hand over Jean’s on his shoulder and smiled sympathetically. The touch seemed to dispel whatever emotional storm had blown over him and his partner’s warmth burned away the pain that had nested inside his heart. Jean slipped his shoulder free and smirked at the man. He had known that Marco owned one of the official shirts and it seemed like something very much like him to hold off on using it just to placate his easily peeved friend. Still, the thought that Marco had waited for him before wearing it made him swell with affection for the freckled idiot.

           “You’ll get yours tonight. I’m only wearing mine because I have to for the announcement. It’s about time now, shall we go?” Marco wore the same sunny smile on his face that he remembered seeing on that first day. It was the smile he’d come to live for. Jean fought the urge to lace their fingers together like some blushing school brat and instead he punched Marco playfully on the arm.

           “Yeah, let’s do this,” he said, offering up his patented half grin once more. “I can’t handle all this mushy shit for much longer without barfing.”

           Together they headed downstairs and crossed over to the building on the other side of the main tower. As they passed it, Jean looked up at it and grinned. It was starting to feel a lot like his first day. He wondered if Rico would look at him with that same blank expression if he walked in right now and gave her a repeat performance of his introduction speech. _Yeah, she totally would._ He was sure that even now, bearing the credentials to back up his bold statements from back then, she wouldn’t be any more impressed, which was to say not at all.

           They came to the glass doors of the gym and Jean put a hand on the door handle as he came to a halt. He remembered almost eating this door when Levi threw it open that day. Now he was going through these doors as a full member of the company. In his mind he retraced the events of his introduction inside, remembering his first impressions of everyone he’d met that day. Levi had and still did intimidate the hell out of him but there had been a lot of mutual respect gained between them and he knew that the angry little man’s attitude towards him, while not really getting any friendlier, would at least improve a little on the insulting side. _Can’t call me shitstain anymore, Heichou._

           He next thought of Eren who he had finally come to terms with during the time when his partner had been hospitalized. They’d gotten into one of their usual brawls but at that time, Jean’s heart hadn’t really been in it and Eren had surprised him when he backed off and said as much. The boy had told him then that you can tell a lot about a man by the way he fights and that he could tell how much Jean was really worried about Marco. Jean, shocking himself half to death, had opened up to the guy and spilled all his concerns about his partner’s condition, sans any of the romantic parts. Eren had listened quietly to all of it and in the end he had clapped Jean on the shoulder and said, “I still hate you but it’s nice to finally know you’re capable of giving a shit about someone other than yourself,” with a stupid grin on his stupid face. They had brawled again after that but they were both smiling by that point and neither of them gave each other any real injuries.

           Jean’s thoughts drifted to his other colleagues now, thinking of how they had come to respect him and even, dare he say it, like him over the months. Of course, he had known with complete certainty that they would, so that thought was nothing new. Still, it hadn’t been as easy as he thought. This was where he owed a lot to Marco. Without the man’s guidance he thought for sure he’d never have been able to cross that boundary from unsociable asshole to well-respected asshole. Now he had become a valuable member of their family, at least a little bit, and that opened doors that he had never even known were closed. Speaking of which, he inhaled a deep slow breath and took a solid grip on the handle of the one before him. He flung the door open with confidence and strode in to meet the faces of his family as they stood in a circle around Levi in much the same manner they had when they were first introduced. This time, Erwin was standing in the center of the circle as well.

           As he approached the two men, he wore the biggest grin his face could physically produce. _I’m not wiping it off this time._ Levi scowled at him and Erwin held out a hand. They shook and Jean accepted the small bundle Levi practically threw at him. Everyone around him was smiling – even Annie had a tiny smirk tugging at her lips – and he could feel his partner’s radiant happiness warming his back, the other man’s presence a comfortable brace against his spine. Some of those in the circle were making smartass remarks or offering words of encouragement and he drank them in. Then, his commander spoke and everyone fell silent.

           “Jean Kirschtein. You’ve spent the last six months working your sorry ass off,” he announced in an annoyed tone, “and fucked up more than I care to mention. You even ran off like a scared little kid for a week and almost got you and your partner killed.” The others were giving Levi exasperated looks and Erwin cleared his throat.

           “However, you also showed every last one of us, including myself,” he finally admitted with a small smile, “that you’re more than worthy of joining our family as a full-fledged member of the team.” Cheers erupted from the surrounding audience.

           “In honor of your successful completion of training, and in recognition of your skill in battle and your dedication to your partner, I now assign you an official call sign and partner for the remainder of your career as one of us. You will from this day forward be known in the field as Prince,” Jean winced a bit at that but he’d gotten mostly used to it by now, “and your partner will be Marco Bodt, also known as Boy Next Door,” he finished. With a smirk, he added, “May whatever powers that be have mercy on your souls.”

           Jean stood tall as everyone shook his hand in turn and congratulated him a second time. Slowly, the room emptied out until only he and Marco remained. Jean hugged his small packet to his chest as he turned to face the man who would from this point on be by his side in all things. He studied Marco’s face and remembered what he had thought of the man on that first day. He had thought everything about the man was dorky and soft at first and he hadn’t liked his overly friendly attitude or the way the freckled fool made his stomach flutter every few minutes. He had thought the man rather plain but had come to understand after just that one day that there was absolutely nothing plain about Marco Bodt. His big brown puppy eyes and stupid haircut and silly smiles and long fingers and gentle voice and slightly broader frame and star map of freckles had all been rolled up into one delicious homemade Marco pie.

           Jean thought that perhaps even then, on that first day, he had been in love with the man and just hadn’t realized it yet. He found it difficult to recall what the world had felt like without having the man there. They had experienced their rough moments and Jean didn’t mind admitting that yeah, he’d been a tough guy for Marco to deal with. But his friend had stuck with him and had never once abandoned him like so many others had before. And, he had never once underestimated him. In hindsight, it was obvious to him that Marco really did return his feelings and he cursed his own tendency to jump to the wrong conclusions so easily. None of that really mattered now, though, since Jean had him. There was no force in the heavens or on earth that would break their bond and as they stood together in the empty room, both of them knew it.

           The silence spread between them but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Jean wished he could find the words to express how much Marco had come to mean to him. He wanted to do something more to honor their contract with each other but he had no idea what. How do two men who love each other on an entirely different level from normal humans take their companionship further? Jean opened his mouth to speak and Marco tilted his head a bit expectantly but he couldn’t pull any intelligible words up out of the fuzzy haze in his mind and just closed his jaws again lamely. Eventually Marco seemed to understand and came to him. Without words they embraced and Jean felt tears sting his eyes, scrubbing at them angrily.

           “Shit, I told you I can’t handle this mushy crap,” he said finally with a laugh. Marco’s embrace tightened around him and he sensed the man’s tension. “Marco? Hey, what’s up?”

           “Jean, there’s something I have to tell you,” his voice sounded constricted and when he released Jean, he wasn’t smiling anymore. Jean felt fear coil in the pit of his stomach. _Don’t you fuckin’ do this to me. Not now, after everything we’ve been through._ Marco reached into his pocket as he continued, unable to meet Jean’s gaze. Worry drew deep furrows between his eyebrows as he shuffled restlessly on his feet.

           “I … may be stepping out of line here, but for me it’s something that I’ve known for a long time now. Maybe even since the first day we met,” he said softly. “I never said anything because we had so many difficulties getting to where we are and I didn’t want to make things harder for you. And, well … we haven’t even known each other for a year. Although, really, it feels like we’ve known each other for forever.” He was starting to ramble, his nervous fidgeting getting worse.

           “But now, I can’t keep it to myself anymore.” He scrubbed at the back of his neck with his hand free and stared at his feet as he fought with whatever emotions were threatening to spill forth. Jean was honestly frightened now. It felt like a giant hammer was about to fall on his head, or maybe his heart. _Jesus, man, would you just get to the fuckin’ point already? You’re killing me here!_

           “I’m hoping now that we know you’re not going anywhere, you’ll understand. Not that it would have mattered! I mean, I would have gone with you even if you’d had to leave. And I won’t ask you to give me an answer right now, but I want you to know how I _really_ feel,” he said as he took one of Jean’s hands and placed the object he held into his partner’s palm with shaky fingers. It was a plain gold ring with the letters “M.B.” engraved in flowing script on the inside face. Jean stared at it, confused.

           “W-what -” he stammered but Marco plowed ahead.

           “Jean, I love you,” he gasped out. Jean’s eyes became hazel saucers. His words came faster now, as though a dam inside of him had broken. “I’m not trying to force you into anything and I know you’re probably thinking that I’m overreacting, with everything that’s happened today. But I swear to you, I’m not! I’m not just saying this because I’m afraid of losing you or I’m trying to fulfill some kind of obligation, either. I mean, I am afraid of losing you but that’s beside the point. I just want you to know that no matter what happens I intend to spend the rest of my life by your side. That is, if you’ll have me.”

           Marco finally wound down breathlessly and smiled again and the clouds inside Jean’s heart opened up. His partner, his lover, his best friend, and his entire purpose for living was making him the greatest of all promises. _Huh, so that’s how you do it._ Jean looked from Marco to the ring in his hand and back, dumbstruck after the flood of Marco’s outpouring. Did the guy really not have any clue? Jean started to laugh. He couldn’t help it. The laughter poured out of him in great peals and Marco had a worried look on his face when he finally calmed down enough to speak. The big fool had his hands up as if he’d been about to grab Jean’s shoulders.

           “You idiot,” he said between chuckles, “you don’t have to ask for something that’s already been given. Of course I’ll have you. I’ll have you all day, every day, until the day you kick the bucket. And by the way, I love you too, dumbass,” he said and stepped forward to kiss his stunned partner on his red stained and gloriously freckled cheek.

           Jean slid the ring onto his left hand and was glad to find that it fit perfectly. He held the hand up so that Marco could see the band gleaming there on his finger. At the sight of it, Marco assaulted him with a bear hug, laughing through his embarrassment, and kissed Jean deeply until he had to poke Marco to let him up for air. Marco released him sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck again. Jean shook his head at the other man and walked past him, heading for the exit. At the door, he turned around one more time to look at the room. He inhaled deeply of that familiar smell of musk and sweat. This was where he had begun his new life and where he had met the man that would forever change him and his future. This was where he had his first date with destiny and where he had found the place he truly belonged. Now, as he held out his hand and the man he loved took it, he turned away from the beginning of it all and grinned, stepping out into the light of the setting sun.

           “Let’s go, Marco,” he said confidently, “we have a world to conquer.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean listens to an old man’s wishes, Marco’s inner demons get to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! With this, the work is finally complete. Whew! Also, I'm not sorry one bit for this epilogue. :P
> 
> You have all been so kind to me and I enjoyed writing this story so much thanks to that. So, once again, thank you all so so very much! <3 I'll be working on a one shot for these two next so hopefully I'll have something good in the future.

            Jean was in the middle of retro game night on a Sunday in the apartment living room when he received the call. He passed the controller off to Annie who proceeded to beat the ever living shit out of Reiner in the fighting game they were playing. Jean stepped away amidst his mournful cries of defeat to take the phone into the hallway. The man on the other end was telling him that he was being summoned to Greater Maria Hospital at his father’s request.

            “What’s going on,” Marco asked over his shoulder once Jean had gotten a few more instructions and flipped the phone shut.

            “Looks like I have to visit the old man in the hospital. He’s,” Jean paused to swallow the lump in his throat, more choked up than he thought he would be at the news, “he’s not doin’ too well.”

            Marco was immediately attentive and helpful, offering to drive Jean to wherever he needed to go. He had been ordered by the man on the phone to come alone but Marco was a part of his life now and he hadn’t yet had a chance to throw it in his father’s face. Now that this might be his last opportunity, he’d be damned if he was going to let it slip by. Together, they procured one of the company cars and took off.

            Jean called and left a message for Levi on the way, hoping he would get it before he went berserk over their sudden disappearance with company property. The attendant accepted the excuse of a family emergency, probably thanks to the grim expression Jean was wearing, and they hopped into one of the big black Caddy’s. When they arrived at the hospital, Marco dropped him off and left to park the car. Jean met the man who had called him in the lobby where he introduced himself as one of his father’s private attorneys, as well as the one person in charge of handling the affairs of his will. The guy was skinny and a little shorter than Jean, wearing a crisp black business suit with overly shiny shoes and a pair of thin wire-rimmed glasses. His features were pinched and his brown hair was thin and smartly trimmed. He moved to leave after the introduction, expecting Jean to follow, but when he didn’t the stiff man frowned unpleasantly and questioned Jean about the hold up.

            “I’m waiting for my partner, Marco” Jean said without bothering to acknowledge the sudden shock and mild disgust on the man’s face. _If you say anything I don’t like, I’ll shove my fist down your throat, dying will be damned._ Wisely, the man held his tongue and they continued to the room once Marco had returned.

            Inside, Jean found his father lying in the bed with a great number of tubes and machines hooked up to him. In the interest of protecting the Kirschteins’ company, the exact nature of his illness had been kept secret from him but whatever it was, it was very terminal. The man in the bed before him was a mere shadow of what Jean remembered. His limbs were thin and wrinkled and his face was gaunt. After a few minutes of awkward silence, the elder Kirschtein turned his head to them with a great amount of effort.

            “You may leave,” he said to the attorney. The man bowed himself out and closed the door.

           Jean marveled at how strong his father’s voice sounded coming from that frail body. Years of time spent barely ever seeing the man had caused him to forget that this was a proud and strong willed person he secretly looked up to and sought recognition from. He cleared his throat into the silence.

           “Yo, old man,” Jean began nervously, “you don’t look too good. Did you call me here to disown me before you lose the chance?” He was only half serious but the sadness in his father’s eyes stabbed him right in the heart and he regretted the taunt.

           “Jean,” the elder said with all the feeling of a dying man never having fulfilled his final goal in life, “there are things you need to know before … before the end. Things that I can only say to you now, in this room, where prying eyes and listening ears can’t reach. Will you grant me one favor and listen?”

           Jean was stricken. This man before him was a completely different person from the cold and distant company giant he had come to know. All he could do was nod as he felt Marco come to stand next to him and brace him with a hand on his back. _I’m with you_ , he was saying. Jean was thankful for the support.

           “First, allow me to apologize. I know you assumed that I sent you to Erwin’s company as a means to get rid of you. That assumption was a regrettably necessary part of the plan. My real goal was simply to keep you safe from the hell you would have had to live with if you continued to stay with the family. My wife and my son, as well as my corporate advisors, saw you as a threat to the company’s future and this was meant as a compromise to save you from their wrath. I don’t expect you to believe me. I will be satisfied so long as you know what the truth really is.”

           Jean couldn’t stomach any of this. He had been living with the need to hate the man who he thought hated him too. It was a large part of who he had become and what drove him to succeed. To have it all stripped away left a part of him cold and empty. He grimaced and stared at his feet.

           “Secondly, while you already know that I am not your real father, you also do not know who your real father is. I do,” and at this, Jean’s head snapped up. “Your real father was my personal bodyguard up until nearly twenty years ago when he was killed protecting me from an assassination attempt. His name was Albert. He was married to Madeleine, the younger sister of my current wife.”

           “Al and I had … a close friendship,” he said as he looked knowingly at both of them, “something it appears you understand. For many years, we spent our nights together happily. Maddy was a frail and small thing and although he felt some affection for her, the marriage had been an arranged one and he had no romantic feelings for her due to his … preferences.” Rather than the expected embarrassment at this admission, the old man’s eyes were clouded by deep sadness and loss. Jean was surprised to find that he sympathized with the expression. _Why do I feel like I understand that kind of pain?_

           “Eventually, however, her family began to grow suspicious and so he was forced to fulfill his duty to produce a child. Maddy became pregnant with you and five months later Al came to me to end our relationship. He offered to spend one more night with me before he accepted his duty as a father and, ever the love struck fool, I accepted. That was the night that my wife, Priscilla, discovered my true orientation and the affair I had been having with Al.” He closed his eyes against the pain of his own memories and Jean felt his heart constrict. _This isn’t fair, dammit. I can’t hate someone this pitiable._

           “Priscilla is a vengeful and dangerous woman. To this day I have not been able to prove that she was responsible were setting up the assassination attempt on me that failed, but I do know one thing for sure. Al had been the intended target all along. I promised him as he died in my arms that I would protect you and your mother in his stead.” The elder Kirschtein clenched his feeble fists and fought the bitterness that was beginning to overwhelm him.

           “Priscilla is also responsible for attempting to assassinate you during your raid on a certain safehouse,” he growled. Jean and Marco both sucked in a breath. The bullet that had nearly killed Marco had really been meant for Jean after all. “One month before your mother was due, she let slip the fact that I had been having an affair with your father prior to his death. I had been caring for Maddy under the excuse that, in honoring my best guardian, it was my responsibility to make sure Al’s family wanted for nothing.”

           “Maddy was stricken by grief when she found out. She felt that both of us had betrayed her and her unborn child. She had always been prone to emotional instability” he said with a weak little chuckle. “She fled her home and disappeared. Despite my best efforts, I never did manage to locate her before she gave birth to you. Maddy hid herself and her child so well that it took me nine years to find you. Nine years,” he trailed off in a whisper.

           “When I finally came to you in that foster home, it was like looking into Al’s eyes again. I can see them both in you, you know. You have your mother’s hair and smile.” Jean wondered when the man had ever seen him smile. “But your exceptional skill and your eyes, those are every bit your father’s.” There were deep lines around his eyes that crinkled as he looked at Jean. “Perhaps … that’s why it hurt so much to look at you, why I stayed away more than I should have.”

           Jean fought the waves of regret that passed through him. The years of hatred and discrimination at the hands of his adoptive family had filled great oceans of spite within him. But now, all of it was bleeding away before this man he could no longer bring himself to despise. _You bastard. In the end you still have to win. You still have to be the knight in shining armor on your big fuckin’ white horse._

           “Priscilla has taken everything from me over the years except for one thing,” the elder Kirschtein’s ancient features hardened with resolve. “But she will not have you, Jean. Some day I hope you will come to understand what I have sacrificed for you. No matter how much you hate me, no matter how little you think of your family, you will always be my son and a proud bearer of the Kirschtein name. Even though I couldn’t show it, you were every bit as important to me as your father.”

           The old man’s hand trembled on the sheets. He might have been trying to reach out to Jean but the younger Kirschtein was frozen in place, the pain of these realizations choking him. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he could only stand there and listen as his entire world changed. The old man looked away and grew very still. His voice was getting weaker by the minute.

           “I have made arrangements with Erwin to deal with my wife as soon as my affairs are in order and I am no longer in this world. My first son will inherit the company as was intended but he will do so without that frigid medusa guiding his hand.” To hear his father talk hatefully about the woman he’d married validated Jean in ways he couldn’t describe.

           “Finally, Jean, for the past five years I have been setting aside a private savings fund in your name. I have been limited on the amount of money I could move into it without raising suspicion among my family and the company. But, the fund is safe from their greedy hands and the meager amount I have managed to set aside should help you in the event that you need it.”

           “I don’t need your money, old man,” Jean snarled softly against the tears streaming down his cheeks, “and I don’t need your help.” His father only smiled.

           “Yes, I am coming to realize that,” he said as he met Marco’s eyes. “Sending you away has clearly been the best decision I ever made. After hearing of your exploits and progress from Erwin, I can pass knowing that at least one of the two family members that I truly loved, one who regretfully would never love me back, has finally found the home he truly deserves.”

           The words stung Jean to his core. The man was, for the first time, admitting something that Jean had been waiting to hear from him since the moment he had first come into that messy foster home and carried him away. _Heh, like some long lost prince._ He wiped his tears with the back of his knuckles and came to the bedside. He took his father’s hand, surprised as how light and fragile it felt.

           “Listen, old man,” he ground out between clenched teeth, “I came here with the intention of proving to you that I wasn’t going to be shoved under the rug and forgotten by you. I’m not saying I believe any of the bullshit you just spouted.” He had to stop for a moment as his voice caught in his throat. “But if it’s true, then I guess …I owe you one. So, thanks,” he said as his voice became nearly inaudible, “You were important to me too, even if I didn’t wanna admit it.”

           The smile on the elder’s face was worth every word of Jean’s grudging admission. The bony hand in his grasp squeezed a little bit and the sunken eyes moved to Marco. He repeated the whispered words he had first spoken to Erwin when he handed over his most precious son.

           “He isn’t much, but please look after him.”

           Then he was gone.

 +++++++++++

            The two partners lay on Jean’s bed face to face in the growing darkness of the evening. Marco watched the emotions play on Jean’s face as he thought about everything his father had told him before he passed away. He was twirling the gold band Marco had given him around and around his finger. It was a habit that Marco had come to understand as something he did to seek an emotional anchor whenever his thoughts became too tumultuous. Marco raised a hand and ran his knuckles softly across Jean’s cheek. His lover stilled and met his gaze with red rimmed eyes. Rather than looking at him, Jean seemed to be looking through him and Marco wondered where his thoughts were taking him. He felt very lonely being left behind.

           As he stared, Jean seemed to come to some internal decision and lifted himself so that he could sit up over Marco, straddling his lap. He leaned forward and placed his hands on either side of his partner’s head and brought their lips together in a slow, gentle kiss. The message was clear. Jean wanted it to happen tonight. It might have been a bad idea considering he was seeking emotional comfort right now, but Marco didn’t have the power to deny the desperate need in his eyes. If this was what Jean wanted, what he needed, Marco would gladly oblige.

            They didn’t need words tonight. Marco undressed his lover slowly, fingers tracing the contours of his body as each inch of skin was exposed. Jean responded in kind. The shirts went first and Marco found his way to Jean’s nipples, drawing tiny gasps from their owner as he stroked them to attention with his tongue. The pants went next, fingers hooking them and the boxers underneath to slide down over the curve of Jean’s ass. His erection bobbed in front of Marco’s face as he lifted himself and kicked them to the floor. Free of his worldly confines, Jean was beautiful in his grief. He sat over Marco’s thighs exposed and wanting, back arched invitingly, and his mental state causing two small furrows to form between his eyebrows. Marco wanted to kiss them away but he figured that would come in time. For now, he settled for removing his own pants and underclothes. Once he was free of them, he grabbed the small bottle that Jean now kept on his nightstand and opened the cap.

            Jean scooted forward a few inches and leaned over Marco, legs spreading further apart. This part was something they had done many times now and Jean had gotten used to the process. Marco held Jean’s eyes as he sought his lover’s entrance. There was a tiny flinch when he slid the first finger in down to the knuckle and began to move. Jean opened his mouth slightly as he deepened his breathing. His cock wept pre-cum onto Marco’s stomach. The second finger earned him another flinch and a clenching of jaw muscles. This one always seemed to be the hardest one for Jean but he still refused to look away even when Marco began the painful task of stretching him. Jean’s breath shuddered and he forced himself to relax. Neither of them had made a single noise yet but they both knew that would change very soon.

            The third finger went in once Jean’s muscles had finally relaxed enough to accommodate it. Jean was panting open mouthed now and his hips were giving short sporadic thrusts. Marco schooled himself to patience, knowing that the next step would be a first for both of them. When Jean had finally had enough preparation, Marco removed his fingers and applied more lubricant to his cock, positioning the head just below his partner’s hole. He watched unblinking as Jean lowered himself carefully onto Marco, not wanting to miss even the slightest twitch or change on his face. The head went in, followed by the torturously slow progression of the shaft. Jean’s face was twisted in a strange mess of pain and concentration. He was biting his lower lip, eyes squeezed shut, and head thrown back to expose a delicious expanse of throat.

            Marco was having a difficult time thinking clearly or breathing properly. The feeling of being buried to the hilt in the intense heat of Jean’s body was like nothing he had ever felt before. Jean was sitting motionless on top of him waiting for his body to adjust but it was driving Marco insane. His insides were _throbbing_ and it felt like he was trying to suck Marco into him. If Jean didn’t start moving soon, Marco was going to take over and stop playing nice. In the next moment, Jean raised his hips and began to move. The pace was slow and uneven. He really had no idea how to do things from his current position but it was sweet, blessed friction and that was all that mattered for the moment. Marco helped out by thrusting up to meet him. Eventually the slow pace became too slow for both of them and with a look from his partner, Marco slid out and rolled them over.

            He hooked Jean’s knees over his shoulders, bending the man at an angle that would allow him to go much deeper, and braced himself with one arm. Gripping Jean’s knee with his other hand, he began to thrust with long and deep strokes. He knew the angle would allow him to hammer Jean’s prostate and was rewarded after the first few thrusts with the low mewling sounds he knew meant he was hitting the right spot. His partner’s heat and tightness were taking hold of him as he sped up his pace. Brows drawing together, he fought against his inner nature. Every part of him screamed to push further and further, to claim Jean’s body viciously and completely, to carve his name into his lover’s very soul with the joining of their flesh. He wanted to hear his name spill out of those lips as his seed spilled into him at the same time. The hushed calling of that voice deep down inside of him was a mantra that beat in time with the pounding of his heart.

            _Make him mine, make him mine, make him mine so that he never looks at another person again. Make him know only the feeling of my cock inside of him. Make him want only for my touch._

            Below him, Jean was thrashing in raw pleasure, moaning through gritted teeth. Marco redoubled his efforts and slid his hand down to pump Jean’s throbbing erection. It took only a few flicks of his wrist before Jean was spilling out all over his own stomach. His muscles constricted around Marco as he came, his partner’s name on his lips. The cry was what did it. Marco felt the pressure in his groin build and his balls tightened, white hot pleasure shooting through his spine as he emptied into Jean with a grunt.

           He collapsed onto his supporting elbow, barely keeping his weight off of his partner as he heaved, trying to catch his breath. Around him, his lover’s limbs sprawled haphazardly. Gingerly, he removed himself from Jean and fell heavily onto his side next to the other man. Guilt nagged at him for being too rough. He knew Jean was going to hurt in the morning no matter how quickly he usually recovered. Jean, however, didn't seem particularly put off by it. He was simply staring up at the ceiling blankly as he panted heavily, oblivious to the messy state Marco had just put him in. Marco watched him for a few more minutes, hoping he would come around. He had to admit that he was a little hurt by the fact that Jean hadn’t been all here for this moment. Eventually, he got tired of waiting and reached out to turn Jean’s face towards him.

_Hey, remember me?_ Marco communicated with him silently, afraid to break the fragile quiet between them. Jean blinked at him slowly and through great effort, he came back. Jean had been through a lot today and he knew the man would talk about it eventually so Marco didn’t press him. Marco wondered again where he had gone in his mind. Wherever it was, he didn’t think he liked it when Jean went there. He traced a thumb along Jean’s jaw as he pouted silently. Jean seemed to understand and his grin returned as he leaned over and kissed his lover.

            “Sorry, Marco,” he said as he ran his fingertips across Marco’s freckled cheek, “I went away for a while but I won’t be going back to that place anymore. This is my home now. I’m back for good.”

            Marco gave him a relieved smile and covered Jean’s hand with his own. He pressed their foreheads together gently as he closed his eyes.

            “Welcome home, Jean.”


End file.
